






CojpghtN® 


\ 


COPyRIGHT DEPOSm 



✓ 





A BEAUTIFUL 
POSSIBILITY 


By 

EDITH FERGUSON BLACK 

AUTHOR OF “A PRINCESS IN CAEICO,” ETC. 



illieUNION PRESS 

Philadelphia. 


♦1122 CHESTNUT STREET* 




LIP«*«yY nnMGRHSS 

TV»0 (OoniRS ffnr.Mv^ 

AUG 81 1904 

Oooyrtsrht Entry 
/'l-tuo' 2« 4 — / 0 

CLASS 0 - KXo. Noi 


9 D 3 4* 

' COPY B 


i 




s (o ^ 






Copyright, 1904, by thb American Sunday-School Union. 


All rights reserved. 



Py^LISJipiJ AUPUST, 4994r. 

2 • • t • 

•••*•« « tctc 

• • s « • s' < f 

• • *••••«« <€C4 



* « s 
« •> 






V 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


CHAPTEE I. 

In one of the fairest of the West Indian 
islands a simple but elegant villa lifted its 
gabled roofs amidst a bewildering wealth of 
tropical beauty. Brilliant birds flitted among 
the foliage, gold and silver Ashes darted to and 
fro in a large stone basin of a fountain which 
threw its glittering spray over the lawn in front 
of the house, and on the vine-shaded veranda 
hammocks hung temptingly, and low wicker 
chairs invited to repose. 

Behind the jalousies of the library the owner 
of the villa sat at a desk, busily Avriting. He 
was a slight, delicate looking man, Avith an ex- 
pression of careless good humor upon his face 
and an easy air of assurance according Avith the 
interior of the room which bespoke a cultured 
taste and the ability to gratify it. Books were 
everywhere, rare bits of china, curios and ex- 
1 


2 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


quisitely tinted shells lay in picturesque con- 
fusion upon tables and wall brackets of native 
woods ; soft silken draperies fell from the win- 
dows and partially screened from view a large 
alcove where microscopes of different sizes stood 
upon cabinets whose shelves were filled with a 
miscellaneous collection of rare plants and 
beautiful insects, specimens from the agate forest 
of Arizona, petrified remains from the ‘ Bad 
Lands ’ of Dakota, feathery fronded seaweed, 
skeletons of birds and strange wild creatures, 
and all the countless curiosities in which natural- 
ists delight. 

Lenox Hildreth when a young man, forced 
to flee from the rigors of the Hew England 
climate by reason of an inherited tendency to 
pulmonary disease, had chosen Barbadoes as 
his adopted country, and had never since re- 
visited the land of his birth. From the first, 
fortune had smiled upon him, and when, some 
time after his marriage with the daughter of 
a wealthy planter, she had come into pos- 
session of all her father’s estates, he had built 
the house which for fifteen years he had called 
home. When Evadne, their only daughter, 
was a little maiden of six, his wife had died, 
and for nine years father and child had been 
all the world to each other. 

He finished writing at last with a sigh of 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


3 


relief, and folding the letter, together with one 
addressed to Evadne, he enclosed both in a 
large envelope which he sealed and addressed 
to Judge Hildreth, Marlborough, Mass. Then 
he leaned back in his chair, and, clasping his 
hands behind his head, looked fixedly at the 
picture of his fair young wife which hung above 
his desk. 

‘ ‘ A bad job well done, Louise — or a good one. 
Our little lass isn’t very well adapted to making 
her way among strangers, and the Bohemianism 
of this life is a poor preparation for the heavy 
respectability of a Hew England existence. 
Lawrence is a good fellow, but that wife of his 
always put me in mind of iced champagne, 
sparkling and cold.” He sighed heavily. 
“ Poor little Yad ! It is a dreary outlook, but 
it seems my one resource. Lawrence is the 
only relative I have in the world. 

‘ ‘ After all, I may be fighting windmills, and 
years hence may laugh at this morning’s work 
as an example of the folly of yielding to unnec- 
essary alarm. Danvers is getting childish. 
All physicians get to be old fogies, I fancy, a 
natural sequence to a life spent in hunting down 
germs I suppose. They grow to imagine them 
where none exist.” 

He rose, and strolled out on the veranda. 
As he did so, a negro, whose snow-white hair 


4 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


had earned for him from his master the sobri- 
quet of Methusaleh, came towards the broad 
front steps. He was a grotesque image as he 
stood doffing a large palm-leaf hat, and Lenox 
Hildreth felt an irresistible inclination to laugh, 
and laughed accordingly. His morning’s 
occupation had been one of the rare instances 
in which he had run counter to his inclinations. 
Sky blue cotton trousers showed two brown 
ankles before his feet hid themselves in a pair 
of clumsy shoes ; a scarlet shirt, ornamented 
with large brass buttons and fastened at the 
throat with a cotton handkerchief of vivid 
corn color, was surmounted by an old nankeen 
coat, upon whose gaping elbows a careful wife 
had sewn patches of green cloth ; his hands 
were encased in white cotton gloves three sizes 
too large, whose finger tips waved in the wind 
as their wearer flourished his palm-leaf head- 
gear in deprecating obeisance. 

“Well, Methusaleh, where are you off to 
now ? ’ ’ and Lenox Hildreth leaned against a 
flower wreathed pillar in lazy amusement. 

“To camp-meetin’. Mass Hildreff. I hez 
your permission, sail ? ” and the negro rolled 
his eyes with a ludicrous expression of humility. 

His master laughed with the easy indulgence 
which made his servants impose upon him. 

“You seem to have taken it, you rascal. It 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


5 


is rather late in the day • to ask for permission 
when you and your store clothes are all ready 
for a start. ’ ’ 

“ ’Scuse me, Mass Hildreff,” with another 
deprecating wave of the palm-leaf hat, “but 
yer see I knowed yer wouldn’t dissapint me of 
de priv’lege uv goin’ ter camp-meetin’ no- 
how. ’ ’ 

Lenox Hildreth held his cigar between his 
slender fingers and watched the tiny wreaths 
of smoke as they circled about his head. 

“So camp-meeting is a privilege, is it?” 
he said carelessly. “How much more good 
will it do you to go there than to stay at home 
and hoe my corn ? ” 

The eyes were rolled up until only the whites 
were visible. 

“Powerful sight more good. Mass Hildreff. 
De preacher’s ’n uncommon reli jus man, an’ de 
’speriences uv de bredren is mighty upliftin’. 
Yes, sah!” 

“Well, see that they don’t lift you up so 
high that you’ll forget to come down again. 
I suppose you have an experience in common 
with the rest? ” 

“Yes, Mass Hildreff,” and the palm-leaf 
made another gyration through the air. “ I’se 
got a powerful ’sperience, sah.” 

“ Well, off you go. It would be a pity to 


6 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


deprive the assembly of such an edifying speci- 
men of sanctimoniousness. ’ ’ 

‘‘Yes, sah, I’se bery sanktimonyus. I’se 
’bliged to you, sab.’’ 

With a last obsequious flourish the palm- leaf 
was restored to its resting-place upon the snowy 
wool, and the negro shambled away. When 
be bad gone a few yards a sudden thought 
struck his master and he called, — 

“ Methusaleh, I say, Methusaleh ! ” 

‘‘Yes, sah,” and the servant retraced his 
steps. 

“ What about that turkey of mine that you 
stole last week ? You can’t go to camp-meet- 
ing with that on your conscience. Come, now, 
better take off your finery and repent in sack- 
cloth and ashes. ’ ’ 

For an instant the negro was nonplused, 
then the palm-leaf was flourished grandilo- 
quently, while its owner said in a voice of 
withering scorn, — 

“Laws! Mass Hildreff, do yer spose I’se 
goin’ ter neglec’ de Lawd fer one lil’ turkey? ” 
His master turned on his heel with a low 
laugh. “ Of a piece with the whole of them 1 ’ ’ 
he said bitterly. ‘ ‘ Hypocrites and shams 1 
“Evadne!” he exclaimed impetuously, as 
a slight girlish figure came towards him, ‘ ‘ never 
say a single word that you do not mean nor 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. Y 

express a sensation that you have not felt. It 
is the people who neglect this rule who play 
havoc with themselves and the world. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Why, dearest, you frighten me ! ’ ’ and 
the girl slipped her hand through his arm with 
a low, sweet laugh. ‘‘ I never saw you look 
so solemn before.’^ 

“Hypocrisy, Yad, is the meanest thing on 
earth ! The pious people at the church yonder 
call me an unbeliever, but they’ve got them- 
selves to thank for it. I may be a good-for- 
nothing but at least I will not preach what I 
do not practise. ’ ’ 

“You are as good as gold, dearest. I 
won’t have you say such horrid things ! And 
you don’t need to preach any thing. I am sure 
no one in all the world could be happier than 
we.” 

Her father put his hand under her chin, and, 
lifting her face towards his, looked long and 
earnestly at the pure brow, about which the 
brown hair clustered in natural curls, the clear- 
cut nose, the laughing lips parted over a row 
of pearls, and the wonderful deep gray eyes. 

‘ ‘ Are you happy, little one ? ” he asked 
wistfully. “ Are you quite sure about that? ” 

“ Happy! ” the girl echoed the word with 
an incredulous smile. “Why, dearest, what 
has come to you? You never needed to ask 


8 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


me such a question before ! Don’t 3 ^ou know 
there isn’t a girl in Barbadoes who has been 
so thoroughly spoiled, and has found the spoil- 
ing so sweet? Do I look more than usually 
mournful to-day that you should think I am 
pining away with grief?” She looked up at 
him with a roguish laugh. 

He smiled and laid his finger caressingly on 
the dimpled chin. ‘ ‘ Dear little bird ! ” he 
said tenderly; “but when this dimple cap- 
tivates the heart of some one, Yad, you will 
fiy away and leave the poor father in the 
empty nest. ’ ’ 

Her color glowed softly through the olive 
skin. She threw her arms around his neck and 
laid her face against his breast. “You know 
better!” she exclaimed passionately. “You 
know I wouldn’t leave you for all the ‘ some 
ones ’ in the world ! ’ ’ 

Her father caught her close. “ Poor little 
lass 1 ” he said with a sigh. 

The girl lifted her head and looked at him 
anxiously. “ Dearest, what is the matter ? 
I am sure you are not well! You have been 
sitting too long at that tiresome writing. ’ ’ 

“Yes, that is it, darling,” he said with a 
sudden change of tone. “Writing always 
does give me the blues. I think the man who 
invented the art should have been put in a pil- 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


9 


lory for the rest of his natural life. Blow your 
whistle for Sam to bring the horses and we 
will go for a ride along the beach. ’ ’ 

Evadne lifted the golden whistle which hung 
at her girdle and blew the call which the well- 
trained servant understood. “ Fi, dearest!” 
she said, “if there were no writing there 
would be no books, and what would become 
of our beautiful evenings then? But I am 
glad you do not have to write much, since it 
tires you so. What has it all been about, 
dear? Am I never to know? ” 

“Some day, perhaps, little Yad. But do 
not indulge in the besetting sin of your sex, 
or, like the mother of the race, you may find 
your apple choke you in the chewing.” 

Evadne shook her finger at him. ‘ ‘ !N*aughty 
one ! As if you were not three times as curious 
as 1 1 And when it comes to waiting, — ^you 
should have named me Patience, sir ! ” 

Her father laughed as he kissed her, then 
he tied on her hat, threw on his own, and 
hand-in-hand like two children they ran down 
the veranda steps to where the groom stood 
waiting with the horses. 


CHAPTEE II. 


A MONTH full of happy days had flown by 
when Evadne and her father returned one 
morning from a long tramp in search of speci- 
mens. A delightful afternoon had followed, 
he in a hammock, she on a low seat beside him, 
arranging, classifying and preparing their 
morning’s spoil for the microscope. Suddenly 
she turned towards him with a troubled face. 

‘‘Dearest, how pale you look ! Are you 
very tired ? ” 

“ It is only the heat, ’ ’ he answered lightly. 
“We had a pretty stiff walk this morning, you 
know. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ And I carried you on and on ! ” she cried 
reproachfully. * “ I was so anxious to find this 
particular crab. Isn’t he a pretty fellow ? ” 
and she lifted the box that her father might 
watch the tiny creature’s play. “ I shall go 
at once and make you an orange sherbet.” 

“ Let Dinah do it and you stay here with 
me.” 

“ Ho indeed I You know you think no one 
10 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


11 


can make them as well as I do. I promise you 
this one shall be superfine. ’ ’ 

“As you will, little one, — only don’t stay 
away too long. ’ ’ 

He lay very still after she had left him, look- 
ing dreamily through the vines at the silver 
spray of the fountain. The air had grown 
oppressively sultry ; no breath of wind stirred 
the heavily drooping leaves, no sound except 
the rhythmic splash of the fountain and the 
soft lapping of the waves upon the beach. He 
closed his eyes while their ceaseless monotone 
seemed to beat upon his brain. 

“Forever! Forever! Forever!” 

A spasm of pain crossed his face as Evadne’s 
voice woke the echoes with a merry song. 
‘ ‘ Poor little lass ! ” he murmured. Then he 
smiled as she came towards him, quaffed off the 
beverage she had prepared with loving skill, 
and called her the best cook in all the Indies. 

‘ ‘ Has it refreshed you, deare^ ? ’ ’ she asked 
anxiously. 

‘ ‘ Immensely ! How you shall read me some 
of Lalla Kookh, and after dinner I will set 
about making a Mecca for your crab.” 

Evadne stroked the dainty claws, — 

“Poor little chap! So you are a pilgrim 
like the rest of us. I wish we did not have to 
go on and on, dearest! ” she exclaimed pas- 


12 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


sionately, ‘‘why cannot we stancl still and 
enjoy ? ’ ’ 

“It would grow monotonous, little Yad. 
Progress is the law of all being, and seventy 
years of life is generally enough for the major- 
ity. You would not like to live to be an old 
lady of two hundred and fifty ? Think how 
tired you would be ! ” 

She laid her cheek against his upon the pil- 
low. “ I should never grow tired, — with 
you ! ’ ’ 

The evening drew on, hot and breathless. 
Low growls of distant thunder were heard at 
intervals, and in the eastern sky the lightning 
played. 

Evadne watched it, sitting on the top step of 
the veranda, her white muslin dress in happy 
contrast with the deep green of the vines which 
clustered thickly about the pillar against which 
she leaned. On the step below her a young 
man sat. Pie too was clad in white and the rich 
crimson of the silken scarf which he wore 
about his waist enhanced his Spanish beauty. 
A zither lay across his knees over which his 
hands wandered skilfully as he made the air 
tremble with dreamy music. Mr. Hildreth 
paced slowly up and down the veranda behind 
them. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


13 


‘‘ What is the news from the great world, 
Geoff ? I saw a troop ship signaled this 
morning. Have you been on board yet ? ” 

“ Ho, sir, I have been looking over the plan- 
tation with my father all day, and only got 
home in time for dinner. ’ ’ 

“You chose a cool time for it! ” and Mr. 
Hildreth laughed. 

Geoffrey Chittenden shrugged his shoulders. 
‘‘When Geoffrey Chittenden, Senior, makes 
up his mind to do anything, he has the most 
sublime indifference for the thermometer of 
any one I ever had the honor of knowing. But 
the ship only brought a small detachment, I 
believe ; she will carry away a larger one. 
The garrison here is to be reduced, you 
know.’’ 

‘‘ Yes, it is a mistake I think. Will Drew- 
son have to go ? He has been on this Station 
longer than any of the others.” 

“Yes, his company has marching orders for 
Malta. He told me last night he was coming 
to take leave of you next week.” 

“ Our nice Captain Drewson going away I ” 
Evadne exclaimed, aghast. “ Why, dearest, 
he is one of our oldest friends ! ” 

“ The law of progression, Yad darling.” 
“How I hate it!” she cried, while her 
lips trembled. “ Why can’t we just live on 


14 : 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


in the old happy way ? You will be going 
next, Geoff, and the Hamiltons and the Yander- 
voorts. Does nothing last ? ” 

Her voice hushed itself into silence and again 
Lenox Hildreth heard the soft waves singing, — 
‘ ‘ Forever ! Forever ! Forever ! ’ ’ 

“Oh yes, Evadne,” Geoffrey said with a 
laugh : “we are very lasting. It is only the 
unfortunate people under military rule who 
prove unreliable. Let me sing you my latest 
song to cheer your spirits. I only learned it 
last week.” 

He struck a few chords and was beginning 
his song when a low groan made him spring to 
his feet. Evadne passed him like a flash of 
light and flew to her father’s side. He was 
leaning heavily against a pillar with his hand- 
kerchief, already showing crimson stains, 
presed tightly against his lips. 

They laid him gently down and summoned 
help. After that all was like a horrible dream 
to Evadne. She was dimly conscious that 
friends came with ready offers of assistance, and 
that Barbadoes’ best physicians were unremit- 
ting in their efforts to stop the hemorrhage ; 
while she stood like a statue beside her father’s 
bed. She was absolutely still. When at last 
the hemorrhage was checked the exhaustion 
was terrible. Evadne longed to throw herself 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 15 

beside him and pillow the dear head upon her 
bosom, but Dr. Danvers had whispered, — 

‘‘ A sudden sound may start the hemorrhage 
again, — the slightest shock is sure to.” After 
that, not for worlds would she have moved a 
finger. 

The day passed and another night drew on. 
One of the physicians was constantly in at- 
tendance, for the hemorrhage returned at in- 
tervals. Just as the rose-tinted dawn looked 
shyly through the windows, her father spoke, 
and Evadne bent her head to catch the faint 
tone of the voice which sounded so far away. 

“ Yad, darling, I have made an awful mis- 
take ! I thought everything a sham. I know 
better now. Make it the business of your life, 
little Yad, to find Jesus Christ.” 

Again the red stream stained his lips, and 
Dr. Danvers came swiftly forward, but Lenox 
Hildreth was forever beyond all need of human 
care. 

A week passed, and day after day Evadne 
sat by her window, speaking no word. Out- 
doors the fountain still sparkled in the sunshine 
and the birds sang, but for her the foundations 
of life had been shaken to their center. Her 
friends tried in vain to break up her unnatural 
calm. 


16 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


‘‘ If you would only have a good cry, Evad- 
ne,” Geoffrey Chittenden said at last, “you 
would feel better, dear. That is what all girls 
do, you know.” 

She turned upon him a pair of solemn eyes, 
out of which the merry sparkle had faded. 
“Will crying give me back my father ? ” 

“ Why, no, dear. Of course I didn’t mean 
that. But these things are bound to happen 
to us all, sooner or later, you know. It is the 
rule of life. ’ ’ 

“ ‘ The law of progression,’ ” she said with 
a dreary laugh. “I wish the world would 
stop for good! ” 

When the clergyman came she met him 
quietly, and he found himself not a little dis- 
concerted by the steady gaze of the mournful 
grey eyes. He was not accustomed to deal- 
ing with such wordless grief, and he found his 
favorite phrases sadly inadequate to the oc- 
casion. There was an awkward pause. 

“ Dr. Danvers says your father told him 
some time ago that, in the event of his death, 
he wished you to make your home with your 
uncle in America? ” he said at length. 

Evadne bowed. 

“Well, my dear young lady, you will find 
it in all respects a most desirable home, I feel 
confident. Judge Hildreth holds a position of 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


ir 


great trust in the church, and is universaU]f^ 
esteemed as a Christian gentleman of^teiSing 
character. ’ ’ >' 

The grey eyes were lifted to his face. 

Shall I find Jesus Christ there ? ” 

“Jesus Christ?” The clergyman echoed 
her words with a start. “ I beg your pardon, 
my dear. The Lord sitteth upon his throne in 
the heavens. We must approach him rever- 
ently, with humble fear. ’ ’ 

“That seems a long way off,” said Evadne 
in a disappointed tone. “ There must be some 
mistake. My father told me to make it the 
business of my life to find him.” 

“ Your father, my dear! Oh, ah, ahem! ” 
An indignant flash leaped into the grey eyes. 
Evadne rose and faced him. “You must ex- 
cuse me, sir,” she said quietly. Then she left 
the room. 

And the tears, which all the kindly sympathy 
had failed to bring her, at the first breath of 
censure fell about her like a flood. 


2 


CHAPTER III. 


Judge Hildreth sat with his family at din- 
ner in the spacious dining-room of one of the 
finest houses in Marlborough. He was a hand- 
some man, with a stateliness of manner attribu- 
table in part to the deferential homage which 
Marlborough paid to his opinion in all matters 
of importance. His wife, tall and queenly, sat 
opposite him. Two daughters and a son com- 
pleted the family group. Louis Hildreth had 
his father’s dark blue eyes and regular features, 
but there were weak lines about the mouth 
which betokened a lack of purpose, and the ex- 
pression of his face was marred by a cynical 
smile which was fast becoming habitual with 
him. Isabelle, the eldest, was tall and fair, 
except for a chill hauteur which set strangely 
upon one so young, while her firmly set lips 
betokened the existence of a strong will which 
completely dominated her less self-reliant sister. 
Marion Hildreth was just Evadne’s age, with 
a pink and white beauty and soft eyes which 
turned deprecatingly at intervals towards 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


19 


Isabelle, as though to ask pardon for imaginary 
solecisms against Miss Hildreth’s code of 
etiquette. 

The covers were being changed for the 
second course when a servant entered and ap- 
proached the Judge, bearing a cablegram upon 
a silver salver. He ran his eyes hastily over 
its contents, then he leaned back heavily against 
his chair, while an expression of genuine sorrow 
settled down upon his face. 

‘‘Your Uncle Lenox is dead,” he said 
briefly, as the girls plied him with questions. 

“Dead! ” Mrs. Hildreth’s voice broke the 
hush which had fallen in the room. ‘ ‘ Why, 
Lawrence, this is very sudden! We have 
looked upon Lenox as being perfectly well. ’ ’ 

“It is not safe to count anyone well, Kate, 
who carries such a lurking serpent in his bosom. 
Only forty-three! Just in his prime. Poor 
Len! ” The Judge leaned his head upon his 
hand, while his thoughts were busy with mem- 
ories of the gay young brother who had filled 
the old homestead with his merry nonsense. 

“ And what will become of Evadne? ” 
Again Mrs. Hildreth’s voice broke the silence. 

“Evadne?” the Judge looked full in his 
wife’s face. “Why, my dear, there is only 
one thing to be done. I shall cable immedi- 
ately to have her come to us. ’ ’ He rose from 


20 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


the table, his dinner all untasted, and left the 
room. 

Louis was the first to speak. ‘‘A Barba- 
does cousin. How will you like having such a 
novelty as that. Sis, to introduce among your 
acquaintance ? ’ ’ He bowed lazily to Mrs. 
Hildreth. “Let me congratulate you, lady 
mother. You will have the pleasure of float- 
ing another bud into blossom upon the bosom 
of society. ’ ’ 

“ I do not see any room for congratulation, 
Louis,” Mrs. Hildreth said discontentedly. 
“ It is a dreadful responsibility. One does not 
know what the child may be like.” 

“ Hardly a child, mamma,” pouted Marion. 
“ Evadne must be as old as 1.” 

“ If that is so, Sis, she must have the wis- 
dom of Methusaleh ! ’ ’ and Louis looked at his 
sister with one of his mocking smiles. ‘ ‘ At 
any rate she will afford scope for your powers 
of training, Isabelle. It must be depressing 
to have to waste your eloquence upon an 
audience of one.” 

Isabelle tossed her head. “I am not anx- 
ious for the opportunity,” she said coldly. 
“ Likely the child will be a perfect heathen 
after running wild among savages all her life. ’ ’ 

Louis whistled. “ A little less Grundy and 
a little more geography would be to your ad- 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


21 


vantage, Isabelle! Barbadoes happens to be 
the creme de la crtoe of the British Indies. 
I would not advise you to display your igno- 
rance before Evadne, or your future lecturettes 
on the conventionalities may prove lacking in 
vital force.” 

“Why, Isabelle, my dear, you must be 
dreaming! ” and her mother looked annoyed. 
“ Don’t let your father hear you say such a 
thing, I beg of you ! When he visited Barba- 
does he was delighted, and he thought Evadne’s 
mother one of the most charming women he 
had ever met. If she had lived of course 
Evadne would be all right, but she has been 
left entirely to her father’s guidance, and he 
had such peculiar ideas.” 

“When did she die, mamma?” asked 
Marion. 

“I am sure I cannot remember. Six or 
seven years ago it must have been. But we 
rarely heard from them. Your Uncle Lenox 
was always a wretched correspondent, and since 
his wife’s death he has hardly written at all.” 

“ The house of Hildreth cannot claim to be 
well posted in the matter of blood relations,” 
said Louis carelessly, as he helped himself to 
olives. 

Upon the deck of one of the Ocean Grey- 


22 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


hounds a promiscuous crowd was gathered. 
Eeturning tourists in all the glory of field 
glasses and tweed suits ; British officers going 
home on furlough from the different outposts 
where they were stationed; merchants from 
the rich markets of the far East ; picturesque 
foreigners in national costume ; and a bishop 
who paced the deck with a dignity becoming 
his ecclesiastical rank. There was a continu- 
ous hum of conversation, mingled with inter- 
mittent ripples of laughter from the different 
groups which were scattered about the deck. 
Among the exceptions to the general sociability 
were the bishop, still pacing up and down with 
his hands clasped behind him, and a young 
girl who sat looking far out over the waves, 
utterly heedless of the noise and confusion 
around her. 

She was absolutely alone. The gentleman 
under whose care she was traveling made a 
point of escorting her to meals, after which he 
invariably secured her a comfortable deck chair, 
supplied her liberally with rugs and books, and 
then retired to the smoking-room, with the 
serene consciousness of duty well performed ; 
and Evadne Hildreth was thankful to be left in 
peace. She was no longer the buoyant, merry 
girl. Her vitality seemed crushed. Hour 
after hour she sat motionless, her hands folded 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


23 


listlessly in her lap, looking out over the danc- 
ing waves. She had caught the last glimpse 
of her beloved island in a grey stupor. Every- 
thing was gone, — father and home and friends, 
— nothing that happened could matter now, — 
but, oh, the dreary, dreary years ! Did the sun 
shine in far-away New England, and could the 
water be as blue as her dear Atlantic, with the 
gay ripple on its bosom and the music of its 
waves ? She looked at the tender sky, as on 
the far horizon it bent low to kiss the face of 
the mysterious mighty ocean which stretched 
‘ ‘ a sea without a shore. ’ ’ That was like her 
life now. All the beauty ended, yet stretching 
on and on and on. And she must keep pace 
with it, against her will. And there was no 
one to care. She was all alone ! No, there 
was Jesus Christ ! 

She started to find that the Bishop’s lady was 
speaking to her. Evadne recognized her, for 
she sat at the next table, and several times she 
had stood aside to let her pass to her seat. 
Something about the solitary, pathetic little 
figure, the hopeless face and mournful grey 
eyes, had won the compassion of the good lady, 
for she was a kindly soul. 

‘ ‘ My dear, you have a great sorrow ? ’ ’ she 
said gently. ‘ ‘ I hope you have the consolations 
of our holy religion to help you bear it.” 


24 : 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


Evadne turned towards her eagerly. Her 
husband was the head of the church. Surely 
she would know. 

‘‘ Can you help me to find him ? ” she asked 
abruptly. 

‘ ‘ Find whom, my dear ? Have you a 
friend among the passengers ? ” 

Jesus Christ.” 

‘‘Oh!” The Bishop’s lady sat back with 
the suddenness of the shock. “Are you in 
earnest, my dear ? ’ ’ she asked with a tinge of 
severity in her tone. ‘ ‘ This is a very serious 
question, but, if you really mean it, I will lend 
you my Prayer Book.” 

Evadne smiled drearily. “Oh, yes, I am 
terribly in earnest. My father said I was to 
make it the business of my life. ’ ’ 

“ Oh, ah, yes, to be sure,” said the lady a 
trifle absently. ‘ ‘ That is very proper. Chris- 
tianity should be the great purpose of our 
life.” 

“ I do not want Christianity, ’ ’ said Evadne 
impatiently, “I want Christ.” 

“My dear, you shock me! The eternal 
verities of our holy religion must ever be ’ ’ 

“ Do you believe in him ? ” asked Evadne, 
interrupting her. 

‘ ‘ Believe in him ? whom do you mean ? ’ ’ 

“ Jesus Christ.” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


25 


Aghast, the Bishop’s lady crossed herself 
and began repeating the Apostles’ Creed. 

“ That makes him seem so far away,” said 
Evadne sadly. “ I do not want him in heaven 
if I have to live upon earth. Have you found 
him ? ” she asked eagerly. ‘‘ Are you on in- 
timate terms with him ? Is he your friend ? ’ ’ 
The Bishop’s lady gasped for breath. That 
she, a member of the Church of the Holy 
Communion of All Saints should be interrogated 
in such a fashion as this ! “I think you do 
not quite understand,” she said coldly. “I 
will lend you a treatise on Church Doctrine. 
You had better study that.” 

“Charlotte,” said her husband when she 
reached her stateroom, ‘ ‘ I have arrived at an 
important decision this afternoon. I have 
finally concluded to take the Socinian Heresy 
as my theme for the noon lectures. The subject 
will admit of elaborate treatment and afford 
ample scope for scholarship. ’ ’ 

“Heresy ! ” echoed his wife, who had not 
yet recovered her equanimity ; ‘ ‘ why, Ber- 
tram, I have just been talking to a young 
person who asked me if I was on intimate 
terms with Jesus Christ ! ” 

“ Ah, yes,” said the Bishop absently, “ the 
radical tendencies of the present day are to be 
deplored. Have you seen that my vestments 


26 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


are in order, Charlotte ? I shall hold Divine 
service on hoard to-morrow.” 

In a neighboring stateroom a lonely soul, 
bewildered and despairing, struggled through 
the darkness towards the light. 


The last snow of the winter lay in soft beauty 
upon the streets of Marlborough as Evadne’s 
train drew into the railway station. Instantly 
all was bustle and confusion throughout the 
cars. Evadne shrank back in her seat and 
waited. Instinctively she felt that for her 
there would be no joyous welcome. Inexpressi- 
bly dreary as the journey had been she was 
sorry it was at an end. An overwhelming em- 
barrassment of shyness seized upon her, and the 
chill desolation of loneliness seemed to shut 
down about her like a cloud. 

A young man sauntered past her with his 
hands in his pockets. When he reached the 
end of the car he turned and surveyed the 
passengers leisurely, then he came back to her 
seat. He lifted his hat with lazy politeness. 

“Miss Hildreth, I believe ? ” 

Evadne bowed. He shook hands coolly. 

‘ ‘ I have the honor of introducing myself as 
your cousin Louis. ’ ’ 

He made no attempt to give her a warmer 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 27 

greeting, and Evadne was glad, but how 
dreary it was ! 

Louis led the way out of the station to 
where a pair of magnificent horses stood, 
tossing their regal heads impatiently. A 
colored coachman stood beside them, clad in 
fur. 

“ Pompey,” he said, ‘‘this is Miss Evadne 
Hildreth from Barbadoes. ’ ’ 

The man bent his head low over the little 
hand which was instantly stretched out to him. 
“ I’se very glad to see Miss ’Yadney,” he said 
with simple fervor. “ I was powerful fond of 
Mass Lennux;” and Evadne felt she had 
received her warmest welcome. 

She nestled down among the soft robes of 
the sleigh while the silver bells rang merrily 
through the frosty air. It was all so new and 
strange. A leaden weight seemed to be set- 
tling down upon her heart and she felt as if she 
were choking, but she threw it off. She dared 
not let herself think. She began to talk 
rapidly. 

“ What splendid horses you have! Surely 
they must be thoroughbreds ? Ho ordinary 
horses could ever hold their heads like that.” 

Louis nodded. “You have a quick eye,” 
he said approvingly. “Most girls would not 
know a thoroughbred from a draught horse. 


28 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


You have hit upon the surest way to get into 
my father’s good graces. His horses are his 
hobby.” 

‘‘ What are their names ? ” 

Brutus and Caesar. The Judge is nothing 
if not classical. ’ ’ 

As they mounted the front steps the faint 
notes of a guitar sounded from the front room. 

“ Confound Isabelle and her eternal twang- 
ing ! ’ ’ muttered Louis, as he fumbled for his 
latch-key. “It would be a more orthodox 
welcome if you found your relations waiting 
for you with open arms, but the Hildreth 
family is not given to gush. Isabelle will tell 
you it is not good form. So we keep our 
emotions hermetically sealed and stowed away 
under decorous lock and key, polite society 
having found them inconvenient things to 
handle, partaking of the nature of nitro- 
glycerine, you know, and liable to spontaneous 
combustion. ’ ’ 

He opened the door as he spoke and Evadne 
followed him into the haU. She shivered, 
although a warm breath of heated air fanned 
her cheek. The atmosphere was chilly. 

Marion hurried forward to greet her, fol- 
lowed more leisurely by Isabelle and her 
mother, who touched her lips lightly to her 
forehead. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


29 


‘‘I hope you have had a pleasant journey, 
my dear, although you must find our climate 
rather stormy. I think you might as well let 
the girls take you at once to your room and 
then we will have dinner. ’ ’ 

“Where is the Judge ? ” inquired Louis. 

“ Detained again at the ofiice. He has just 
telephoned not to wait for him. He is killing 
himself with overwork. ’ ’ 

To Evadne the dinner seemed interminable 
and she found herself contrasting the stiff 
formality with the genial hospitality of her 
father’s table. She saw again the softly 
lighted room with its open windows through 
which the flowers peeped, and heard his gay 
badinage and his low, sweet laugh. Could 
she be the same Evadne, or was it all a dream? 

Isabelle stood beside her as she began to pre- 
pare for the night. She wished she would go 
away. The burden of loneliness grew every 
moment more intolerable. Suddenly she 
turned towards her cousin and cried in desper- 
ation, — 

“ Can you tell me where I shall find Jesus 
Christ ? ’ ’ 

Isabelle started. “ My goodness, Evadne, 
what a strange question I You took my breath, 
away. ’ ’ 

“ Is it a strange question ? ’ ’ she asked wist- 


30 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


fully. ‘‘Everyone seems to think so, and 
yet — my father said I was to make it the busi- 
ness of my life to find him.’’ 

“Your father!” cried Isabelle. “Why 
Uncle Lenox was an ” 

Instantly a pair of small hands were held like 
a vice against her lips. Isabelle threw them 
off angrily. 

“You are polite, I must say! Is this a 
specimen of West Indian manners ? ” 

“You were going to say something I could 
not hear, ’ ’ said Evadne quietly, ‘ ‘ there was 
nothing else to do. ” 

Isabelle left the room, and, returning, threw 
a book carelessly upon the table. “You had 
better study that,” she said. “ It will answer 
your questions better than I can. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I told you she was a heathen ! ’ ’ she ex- 
claimed, as she rejoined her mother in the sit- 
ting-room ; ‘ ‘ but I did not know that I should 
have to turn missionary the first night and give 
her a Bible ! ’ ’ 

Upstairs Evadne buried her face among the 
pillows and the aching heart burst its bonds in 
one long quivering cry of pain. 

“Dearest! ” 


CHAPTEE lY. 


A day full of light — warm and brilliant. 
The sun flooding the wide fields of timothy and 
clover and fresh young grain with glory ; falling 
with a soft radiance upon the comfortable man- 
sion of the master of Hollywood Farm, with its 
spacious barns and long stretches of stabling, 
and throwing loving glances among the leaves 
of its deep belt of woodland where the river 
sparkled and soft rugs of moss spread their rich 
luxuriance over an aesthetic carpet of resinous 
pine needles. 

Hear the limits of Hollywood the forest 
made a sudden curve to the right, and the river, 
turned from its course, rushed, laughing and 
eager, over a ridge of rocks which tossed it 
in the air in sheets of silver spray. 

Standing there, leaning upon a gun, a boy 
of about seventeen looked long at a squirrel 
whose mangled body was staining the emerald 
beauty of the moss with crimson. His face 
was earnest and troubled, while the expression 
of sorrowful contempt which swept over it, 
made him seem older than he was. It was a 
31 


32 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


strong face, with deep-set, thoughtful eyes 
which lit up wondrously when he was inter- 
ested or pleased. His mouth was sensitive but 
his chin was firm and his brown hair fell in 
soft waves over a broad, full brow. People 
always took it for granted that John Pandolph 
would be as good as his word. They never 
reasoned about it. They simply expected it of 
him. 

He began to speak, and his voice fell clear 
and distinct through the silence. 

And you call this sport ? ” There was no 
answer save the soft gurgle of the river as it 
splashed merrily over the stones. 

‘‘You are a brute, John Pandolph ! ” And 
the wind sighed a plaintive echo among the 
trees. 

He was silent while the words which he had 
read six weeks before and which had been ring- 
ing a ceaseless refrain in his heart ever since, 
obtruded themselves upon his memory. 

“ Itis the privilege of everyone to become 
an exact copy of J esus Christ. ’ ’ 

“ 'Well, John Kandolph, can you picture to 
yourself Jesus Christ shooting a squirrel for 
sport ? ’ ’ He tossed aside the weapon he had 
been leaning upon with a gesture of disgust, 
and, folding his arms, looked up at the cloud- 
flecked sky. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 33 

“Are you there, Jesus Christ ? ” he asked 
wistfully. “Are you looking down on this 
poor old world, and what do you think of it 
all ? Men made in God’s image finding their 
highest enjoyment in slaughtering his crea- 
tures. Game Preserves where they can do it 
in luxurious leisure ; fox hunts with their pack 
of hunters and hounds in full cry after one 
poor defenceless fox, and battle-fields where 
they tear each other limb from limb with Gat- 
ling gun and shells ; and yet we call ourselves 
honorable gentlemen, and talk of the delights 
of the chase and the glories of war ! Pshaw ! 
what a mockery it is. ’ ’ 

Stooping suddenly he laid the squirrel upon 
his open palm and gently stroked the long, 
silky fur. He lifted the tiny paws with their 
perfect equipment for service and looked re- 
morsefully at the eyes whose light was dimmed, 
and the mouth which had forever ceased its 
merry chatter. A great tenderness sprang up 
in his heart toward all living things and, lift- 
ing his right hand to heaven, he exclaimed, 
“ Poor little squirrel, I cannot give you back 
your happy life, but, I will never take an- 
other! ” 

Then he knelt, and scooping out a grave, 
laid the little creature to rest at the foot of a 
tree in whose trunk the remnant of its winter 
3 


34 : 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


store of nuts was carefully garnered. When 
at length he turned to leave the spot the tiny 
grave was marked by a pine slab, on which 
was pencilled, 

“ Here lies the germ of a resolve. 

July 17th, 18—” 

He walked slowly along the fragrant wood- 
path, looking thoughtfully at the shadows as 
they played hide and seek upon the moss, while 
through the trees he caught glimpses of the 
sparkling river which sang as it rolled along. 

When he reached the border of the wood- 
land he stood still and his eyes swept over the 
landscape. Hollywood was the finest stock 
farm in the country. After his father’s death 
he had come, a little lad, to live with Mr. 
Hawthorne, and every year which had elapsed 
since then made it grow more dear. He loved 
its rolling meadows, its breezy pastures and its 
fragrant orchards. Its beautifully kept grounds 
and outbuildings appealed to his innate sense 
of the fitness of things, while its air of abun- 
dant comfort made it difficult to realize that 
the world was full of hunger and woe. He 
loved the green road where the wild roses 
blushed and the honeysuckle drooped its fra- 
grant petals, but most of all he loved the grace- 
ful horses and sleek cows which just now were 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


35 


grazing in the fields on either side ; and the shy 
creatures, with the subtle instinct by which all 
animals test the quality of human friendship, 
took him into their confidence and came gladly 
at his call and did his bidding. 

When he reached the end of the road he 
stopped again, and, leaning against the fence 
adjoining the broad gate which led to the house, 
gave a low whistle. A thoroughbred Jersey, 
feeding some distance away, lifted her head 
and listened. Again he whistled, and with 
soft, slow tread the cow came towards him and 
rubbed her nose against his arm. He took her 
head between his hands, her clover-laden 
breath fanning his cheeks, and looked at the 
dark muzzle and the large eyes, almost human 
in their tenderness. 

“ Well, Primrose, old lady, you’re as dainty 
as your namesake, and as sweet. Ah, Sylph, 
you beauty ! ” he continued, as a calf like a 
young fawn approached the gate, “you can’t 
rest away from your mammy, can you ? 
Primrose, have you any aspirations, or are you 
content simply to eat and drink ? You have 
a good time of it now, but what if you were 
kicked and cuffed and starved? You are sen- 
sitive, for I saw you shrink and shiver when 
Bill Wright, — ^the scoundrel! — dared to strike 
you. He’ll never do it again, Prim! Have 


36 A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 

you the taste of an epicure for the juicy grass 
blades and the clover when it is young, — do 
you love to hear the birds sing and the brook 
murmur, and do you enjoy living under the 
trees and watching the clouds chase the sun- 
beams as you chew your cud? Do you wonder 
why the cold winter comes and you have to be 
shut up in a stall with a different kind of 
fodder ? Do you ever wonder who gave you life 
and what you are meant to do with it? How 
I wish you could talk, old lady ! ’ ’ 

He vaulted over the gate, and whistling to a 
fine collie who came bounding to meet him, 
walked slowly on towards the stables. 

“HuUoa, John! ” and a boy about two 
years his junior threw himself off a horse 
reeking with foam. “Kub Sultan down a 
bit like a good fellow. There’ll be the worst 
kind of a row if the governor sees him in this 
pickle.” 

John Eandolph looked indignantly at the 
handsome horse, as he stood with drooping 
head and wide distended nostrils, while the 
white foam dripped over his delicate legs. 

‘ ‘ Serve you right if there were 1 ’ ’ and his 
voice was full of scorn. ‘‘ You’re about as fit 
to handle horsefiesh as an Esquimaux.” 

‘‘Oh, pish! You’re a regular old grand- 
mother, J ohn. There’ s nothing to make such a 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 37 

row about. ’ ’ And Eeginald Hawthorne turned 
upon his heel. 

John threw off coat and vest, and, rolling 
up his sleeves, led the exhausted horse to the 
currying ground. Eeginald followed slowly, 
his hands in his pockets. 

“How did you get him into such a mess ? ” 
he asked shortly. 

“I don’t know, I didn’t do anything to 
him,” and Eeginald kicked the gravel discon- 
tentedly. “ I believe he’s getting lazy.” 

“ Sultan lazy! ” and John laughed incredu- 
lously. “That’s a good joke! Why, he is 
the freest horse on the place ! ’ ' 

“Well, I don’t knowhow else to explain it. 
He’s been on the go pretty steadily, but 
what’s a horse good for ? Thursday afternoon 
we had our cross-country run and the ground 
was horribly stiff. I thought he had sprained 
his off foreleg for he limped a good deal on the 
home stretch, but he seemed to limber up all 
right the last few miles. I was sorry not to 
let him rest yesterday ; would have put him in 
better trim I suppose for to-day’s twenty mile 
pull, — but Cartwright and Peterson wanted to 
make up a tandem, and when they asked for 
Sultan I didn’t like to refuse. They are heavy 
swells, and you know father wants me to get 
in with that lot. But that shouldn’t have hurt 


38 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


him. They only went as far as Brighton. 
What’s fifteen miles to a horse! ” 

“ Fifteen miles means thirty to a horse when 
he has to travel back the same road,” said 
John drily; “ and your heavy swells take the 
toll out of horseflesh quicker than a London 
cabby.” 

“Why, John, what has come to you? 
You’re the last fellow in the world to want me 
to be churlish. ’ ’ 

“ That’s true, Bege, — ^but I don’t want them 
to cripple you as they have poor Sultan. 
What kind of fellows are they ? ’ ’ 

“ Oh, not a bad sort,” said Keginald care- 
lessly. “Lots of the needful, you know, and 
free with it. B’ot very fond of the grind, but 
always up to date when there are any good 
times going. What do you suppose put Sultan 
in such a lather, John ? I was so afraid 
father would catch me that I came across the 
fields, and it was just as much as he could do 
to take the last fence. I made sure he was 
going to tumble.” 

“Well for you he didn’t,” and John 
smoothed the delicate limbs with his firm 
hand, ‘ ‘ these knees are too pretty for a scar. 
Go into the vet room, Kege, and bring me out 
a roll of bandage.” 

“ HuUoa! That will give me away to the 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


89 


governor with a vengeance! What are you 
going to bandage him for ? ” 

“He is badly strained, and if I don’t his 
legs will be all puffed by the morning. It will 
be lucky if it is nothing worse. He looks to 
me as if he was in for a touch of distemper, but 
I’ll give him a powder and perhaps we can 
stave it off.” 

Reginald brought the bandage and then 
stood moodily striking at a beetle with his rid- 
ing whip. He was turning away when a hand 
with a grip of steel was laid on his shoulder 
and he was forced back to where the beetle lay, 
a shapeless mass of quivering agony, while a 
low stern voice exclaimed, — 

‘ ‘ Finish your work ! Even the cannibals do 
that. ’ ’ 

Reginald wrenched himself free. ‘ ‘ Pshaw ! ’ ’ 
he said contemptuously, “ it’s only a beetle.” 
But he did as he was told. 

Then he stood silently watching as with 
swift skilfulness John swathed the horse’s limbs 
in flannel. “I guess Sultan misses you, John. 
Over at the college livery their fingers are all 
thumbs. ’ ’ 

“ Poor Sultan! ” was all John’s answer, as 
he led the horse into a large paddock thickly 
strewn with fresh straw. 


40 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


A night full of stars — silent and sweet. 
John Randolph leaned on the broad gate which 
opened into the green road where he had lin- 
gered in the afternoon. The thoughts which 
surged through his brain made sleep impossible, 
and so, lighting his bulPs-eye, he had gone to 
the stables to see how Sultan was faring, and 
then wandered on under the mystery of the 
stars. 

The night was warm. A breeze heavy with 
perfume lifted the hair from his brow. lie 
heard the low breathing of the cattle as they 
dozed in the fields on either side, and the soft 
whirr of downy plumage as the great owl 
which had built its nest among the eaves of the 
new barn flew past him. Suddenly a warm 
nose was thrust against his shoulder and, with 
the assurance of a spoilt beauty, the cow laid 
her head upon his arm. He lifted his other 
hand and stroked it gently. 

‘‘Hah, Primrose! Are you awake, old 
lady ? What are your views of life now. 
Prim ? Do the shadows make it seem more 
weird and grand, or does midnight lose its awe- 
someness when one is upon four legs ? ’ ’ 

He looked away to where the stars were 
throbbing with tender light, crimson and green 
and gold, and the words of the book which he 
had been studying every leisure moment for 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


41 


the past six weeks swept across his mental 
vision. 

“‘I am the light of the world : he that 
followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but 
shall have the light of life. ’ 

‘ ‘ The light of life, ’ ’ ’ he repeated slowly. 
“ Why, to most people life seems all darkness ! 
What is ‘ the light of life ’ ? ” 

Still other words came stealing to his memory. 
‘ I am the way, the truth, and the life, no one 
cometh unto the Father, but by me. ’ ‘ Except 
ye turn, and become as little children, ye shall 
in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven. ’ 
‘ This is life eternal, that they should know thee 
the only true God, and him whom thou didst 
send, even Jesus.’ 

A great light flooded John Eandolph’s soul. 

“ ‘I’ and ‘me,’ he whispered. “Why, it 
is a personality. It is Jesus himself ! He is 
the way to the kingdom, the truth of the king- 
dom and the life of it. The kingdom of heaven, 
not far away in space, but set up here and now 
in the hearts of men who live the life hid with 
Christ in God. I see it all ! Jesus Christ is 
the light of the life which God gives us through 
his Son.” 

He stretched his hands up towards the 
glistening sky. 

“Jesus Christ,” he cried eagerly, “come 


42 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


into my life and make it light. I take thee 
for my Master, my Friend. I give myself 
away to thee. I will follow wherever thou 
dost lead. Jesus Christ, help me to grow like 
thee ! 

The hush of a great peace fell upon his soul, 
while through the listening night an angel 
stooped and traced upon his brow the kingly 
motto, ‘IchDien.’ 


CHAPTEE Y. 


‘‘Don, Don, me’s turnin’,” and the baby 
of the farm, a little child with sunny curls and 
laughing eyes, ran past the great barns of 
Hollywood. 

John Eandolph was swinging along the green 
road with a bridle over his arm, whistling softly. 
He turned as the childish voice was borne to 
him on the breeze. “All right, Nansie, wait 
for me at the gate. ’ ’ Then he sprang over the 
fence and crossed the field to where a group of 
horses were feeding. 

The child climbed up on the gate beside a 
saddle which John had placed there and waited 
patiently. He soon came back, leading a mag- 
nificent bay horse, and began to adjust the 
saddle. 

“Now, Nan, I’ll give you a ride to the 
house. Can’t go any further to-day, for I 
have to cross the river.” 

The child shook her head confidently. ‘ ‘ Me 
’ll go too, Don.” 

“ I’m afraid not. Nan. The river is so deep, 
43 


44 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


•we’ll have to swim for it. That is why I 
chose Neptune, you see.” 

“Me’s not ’fraid, wiv ’oo, Don.” 

‘‘Better wait, Baby, till the river is low. 
Well, come along then,” as the wily schemer 
drew down her pretty lips into the aggrieved 
curve which always conquered his big, soft 
heart. She clapped her hands with glee, as 
he lifted her in front of him and started Nep- 
tune into a brisk trot, and made a bridle for 
herself out of the horse’s silky mane. 

“ Gee, gee, Nepshun. Nan loves you, dear.” 

When they reached the fording place John’s 
face grew grave. The river had risen during 
the night and was rushing along with turbulent 
strength. There was no house within five 
miles. His business was imperative. He dared 
not leave the child until he came back. Crouch- 
ing upon the saddle, he clasped one arm about 
her while he twisted his other hand firmly in 
and out of the horse’s mane. 

“ Are you afraid, Nansie ? ” 

She twined her arms more tightly about 
his neck until the sunny curls brushed his 
cheek. 

“ Me’ll do anywhere, wiv ’oo, Don.” 

Just as the gallant horse reached the opposite 
bank Keginald galloped down to the ford on 
his way home for Sunday. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


45 


^‘TJpoii my word, John, you’re a perfect 
slave to that youngster ! What mad thing 
will you be doing next, I wonder ? ’ ’ 

“ The next thing will be to go back again,” 
said John with a smile, while Nan clung fast 
to his neck and peeped shyly through her curls 
at her brother. 

“ Where are you off to ? ” 

“ Henderson’s.” 

Reginald turned his horse’s head. ‘ ‘ I might 
as well go along. A man’s a fool to ride alone 
when he can have company.” 

John gave him a swift, comprehensive 
glance. 

“How are things going, Rege ? You’re 
not looking very fit.” 

Reginald yawned and drew his hand across 
his heavy eyes. “ Oh, all right. Oyster sup- 
pers and that sort of thing are apt to make a 
fellow drowsy. ’ ’ 

“Don’t go too fast, Rege.” 

“Why not?” said Reginald carelessly. 
“It suits the governor, and that book you’re 
so fond of says children should obey their 
parents. ’ ’ 

“ I declare, John, you’re a regular algebraic 
puzzle ! ” he exclaimed later in the day, as he 
stood beside John in the carpenter’s shop. 


46 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


watching the curling strips of wood which his 
plane was tossing off with sweeping strokes. 
“You put all there is of you into everything 
you do. You take as much pains over a plough 
handle as you would over a buggy! ” 

“Why not ? God takes as much pains with 
a humming-bird as an elephant. Mere size 
doesn’t count.” 

“Nan loves you, Eeggie,” and a tiny hand 
was slipped shyly into her brother’s. 

“All right, Magpie,” he said carelessly. 
“You had better run home now to mother. 
Your chatter makes my head ache.” 

The laughing lips quivered and the child 
turned away from him to John and hid her 
face against his knee. He lifted her up on the 
bench beside him and gave her a handful of 
shavings to play with. 

“ I don’t see how you accomplish anything 
with that child everlastingly under your feet ! ’ ’ 
Keginald continued, “yet you do two men’s 
work and seem to love it into the bargain. I’m 
sure if I had to cooper up all the things on the 
farm as you do, I should loathe the very sight 
of tools.” 

“I (^0 love it, Eege. Jesus Christ was a 
carpenter, you know. I geb very near to him 
out here.” 

“Jesus Christ!” echoed Eeginald with a 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 47 

puzzled stare. “What is coming to you, 
John?” 

‘ ‘ It has come, Rege, ’ ’ John said with a great 
light in his face. ‘ ‘ I have found my Master. ’ ’ 

“ Upon my word, John, you are the queer- 
est fellow ! What next, I wonder ? ” 

“ The next thing, Rege,” and John laid his 
hand affectionately upon his friend’s shoulder, 
“is for you to find him too.” 

“ So, you’re going to turn preacher, John ? 
You’ll find me a hard subject. A short life 
and a merry one is what I am going in for. 
I’ve no turn for Christianity.” 

“ It pays, Rege.” 

“ Don’t believe it. How can life be worth 
living when you’re drivelling psalm tunes all 
day long ? ” 

John laughed, and there was a new note of 
gladness in his voice which Reginald was quick 
to notice. “I haven’t begun to drivel yet, 
Rege ; and life counts for a good deal more 
when a man has an object than when he is 
living just to please himself.” 

“ And who should a man please but himself, 
I should like to know ? ’ ’ 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“Upon my word!” said Reginald some 
weeks later, as he came upon John sitting as- 


48 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


tride a cobbler’s bench busily mending a pair 
of shoes, while ITan looked on admiringly. 

Do you learn a new trade every month ? ” 

John laughed quietly. ‘‘ I took up this one 
because there are so many repairs always 
needed on the harness, and your father thinks 
all talent should be utilized. ’ ’ 

There was a quizzical look about his mouth 
as he spoke. Eeginald caught the look and 
answered hotly. 

“ The governor ought to be ashamed of him- 
self ! Why don’t you strike, John ? ” 

‘‘Why should I? Knowledge is power, 
Eege.” 

“Knowledge of shoemaking! ” said Eegi- 
nald contemptuously. “ It won’t add to your 
strength much, John.” 

“ Kever can tell,” said John sententiously. 
“You remember that lame fellow saved a bat- 
tle for us by knowing how to shoe the gen- 
eral’s horse.” 

“ Next thing you’ll be going in for a black- 
smith’s diploma! ” 

“I’m thinking of it,” said John coolly. 

‘ ‘ That fellow at the Forks has no more sense 
than a hen. He pared so much off Neptune’s 
hoof last week that he has been limping ever 
since. I had to take him this morning and 
have the shoes removed.” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


49 


‘‘I wish you’d do some shirking, John, like 
the rest of us.” 

“ Jesus Christ never shirked, Kege.” 

“Pshaw! You’re so ridiculous!” and 
Keginald walked discontentedly away. 

“Here, John, John, I say,” he called, 
when the time came for him to return to Col- 
lege, “go catch and saddle Sultan for me. 
You’re so fond of work, you might as well 
have two masters. Be quick now, for I’m in 
the mischief of a hurry. ’ ’ 

John’s face flushed. This boy was younger 
than himself, and his father had been Mr. 
Hawthorne’s friend. 

“ Do you hear what I say, John? ” de- 
manded Eeginald. “ You’re only here as a 
servant any way, and I’ll be master some day, 
so you might as well learn to obey me now.” 

John’s brow cleared, while the words echoed 
in his heart with a glad refrain, — 

“A servant of Jesus Christ,” and “The 
Lord’s servant must not strive, but be gentle 
towards all . . . forbearing.” After all, life 
was a matter between himself and the Lord 
Jesus. What could Keginald’ s taunts affect 
him now ? 

“ All right,” he said quietly, and started for 
the field. 

4 


50 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


‘‘I declare! ” muttered Keginald, as he 
watched the tall, lithe form cross the field with 
springing step, ‘‘you might as well try to 
make the fellow mad now, as to storm Gibral- 
tar ! What has come to him ? ” 

“Here you are. Sir Keginald,” said John 
good-humoredly, as he led the freshly groomed 
horse to the riding-block. 

Keginald’s voice choked. “Shake hands, 
John,” he said huskily. “I am a brute! 
There must be something in this new fad of 
yours after all. If you had spoken to me as I 
did to you just now, I should have knocked 
you down.” 

He rode on for a mile or two in moody 
silence, then he gave his shoulders an impatient 
shrug. 

“I’d like to know what it is about John 
Kandolph that makes me feel so small ! I have 
good times and he is always on the grind. I 
have all the money I can spend and he has 
nothing but the pittance the governor gives 
him, and yet he is three times the better fellow 
of the two. I envy him his spunk and go. 
He comes to everything as fresh as a two-year 
old, and he works everything for all there is in 
it. To see him climbing that hill yesterday, 
with the youngster on his shoulder, actually 
made me feel as if climbing hills was the jolliest 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


51 


thing in life. And it’s so with everything he 
does. Confound it ! I don’t see why I can’t 
get the same comfort out of things. I don’t 
see where the fellow gets his vim. If I worked 
as hard as he does, I’d be ready to tumble into 
bed instead of pegging away at Latin and 
Mathematics. I’ll have to put on a spurt in 
self-defence or he’ll be tripping me up with his 
questions. He’s got the longest head of any- 
one I know. The idea of the governor daring 
to set such a feUow as that to cobble shoes ! ” 

“ It’s queer about the governor,” he con- 
tinued after a pause. “ He’s always ready to 
shell out when I ask him for money, but he 
keeps poor John with his nose to the grind- 
stone all the year round. I suppose he expects 
me to pay him in glory. He’s set his heart 
on my being a judge, — Judge Hawthorne of 
Hollywood. Sounds euphonious, and I verily 
believe the old gentleman has begun to roll it 
like a sweet morsel under his tongue. Can’t 
say I have a special aptitude for the profession, 
and certainly the brains are not in evidence, 
but I suppose the governor thinks money will 
take their place. He has found it takes the 
place of most things. 

“Sultan, old boy, we seem down on our 
luck this morning. We had better take a 
speeder to raise our spirits. It is hardly the 


52 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


thing for Judge Hawthorne of Hollywood to 
envy John Eandolph his humdrum life of 
mending rakes and shoes,” and he urged his 
horse into a mad gallop. 

‘‘I believe I’d like to be poor and work, 
John,” he exclaimed one day. It gets tire- 
some having everything laid ready to your 
hand, with nothing to do but take it. Life 
must be full of snap when you have to dash 
your will up against old Dame Fortune and 
wrest what you want out of her miserly 
clutches. ’ ’ 

‘‘Yes,” said John simply, “Jesus Christ 
was poor.” 

“ Look here, John. If you don’t stop that 
nonsense, people will be dubbing you a crank. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I am ready ! ” he cried, and there was a 
strange, exulting ring in his voice. “They 
called him mad, you know. ’ ’ 


CHAPTEK YI. 


Evadne found herself one morning in Judge 
Hildreth’s roomy coach-house, watching Pom- 
pey, as he skilfully groomed her uncle’s pets. 

It had been decided that after the summer 
holidays, she should become a member of the 
fashionable school which Isabelle and Marion 
attended. In the meantime she was left 
almost entirely to her own devices. Her uncle 
was away all day, Louis at College, and her 
aunt busy with social duties. Her cousins had 
their own particular friends, who were not 
slow to vote the silent girl with the mournful 
grey eyes, full of dumb questioning, a bore ; 
while Evadne, accustomed to being her fath- 
er’s companion in all his scientific researches, 
found their vapid chatter wearisome in the 
extreme. 

Horses were a passion with her, and she 
noted with pleased interest Pompey’s deft 
manipulations. She stood for a long time in 
silence. Pompey had saluted her respectfully 
and then kept on steadily with his work. 

53 


54 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


Dexterously he swept the curry-comb over the 
shining coats and then drew it through the 
brush in his left hand with a curious vocal ac- 
companiment, something between a long-drawn 
whistle and a sigh, and the horses laid their 
heads against his shoulder affectionately and 
looked wonderingly at the stranger out of their 
large, bright eyes. 

“ Did you really know my father ? ” she 
asked at length. 

“ Laws, yes. Missy! ” and Pompey’s honest 
black face grew tender with sympathy. 
‘‘ Mass Lennux stayed with the Jedge ’fore he 
went ter Barbadoes, an’ he spen’ powerful 
sight of his time out here wid me an’ de 
horses. He wuz allers del’cut, — warn’t able 
ter do nothin’ in this yere climate, — ^but he 
hed sech a sperit ! He wouldn’t ever let folks 
know when he wuz a sufferin’. He use ter 
call me ‘ Pompous, ’ ’ ’ and Pompey chuckled 
softly. “He say when I git inter my fur coat 
I look as gran’ on de box as de Jedge do inside ; 
an’ one day he braided de horses’ manes inter 
a hunderd tails an’ tied ’em widyaller ribbun, 
‘ cause he said de crimps wuz in de fashun an’ 
yaller wuz de Jedge’ s ’lecshun color. De 
Jedge wuz powerful angry. He don’t like no 
sech tricks wid his horses. But, laws, he 
couldn’t keep angry wid Mass Lennux ! He 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


65 


jes’ stood wid his bans on his sides an’ larf an’ 
larf, till de Jedge he hev ter larf too, an’ he 
call him a graceless scamp, an’ say he send him 
ter Coventry, an’ Mass Lennux he say ‘ all 
right ef de Jedge go ’long too, an’ take de 
horses, he couldn’t do widout dem nohow.’ ” 

‘‘"Were these the horses my father used to 
ride ? ’ ’ 

“ Laws, no, Missy. Dey wuz ez black ez 
night. Mass Lennux use ter call ’em Egyp an’ 
Erybus.” 

Pompey’s face softened. 

‘ ‘ When my leetle gal died he jes’ put his han’ 
on my shoulder an’ sez he, — ‘ Pompous, you 
jes’ go home an’ cheer up de Missis, yer don’t 
hev no call to worry ’bout de horses.’ An’ he 
tuk care of dem jes’ as ef he’d ben a coachman. 
We’ll never fergit it, Dyce an’ me.” 

Evadne’s eyes shone. That was just like 
her father ! 

“’Specs little Miss is powerful lonesum 
’thout Mass Lennux ? ” 

The soft voice was full of a genuine regret. 
Evadne sank down on a bench which stood 
near by and burst into tears. 

“ Oh, Pompey, I wish I could die! ” 

“ ’Specs little Miss hez no call ter wish dat,” 
said Pompey gently. “ ’Specs de Lord Jesus 
wants her to live fer him. ’ ’ 


56 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


Evadne opened her eyes in wonder. 

“‘The Lord Jesus,’” she repeated. 
“ Why, Pompey, do you know him ? ” 

A great joy transfigured the black face. 

“ He is my Frien’,” he said simply. 

Evadne leaned forward eagerly. “ Oh, 
Pompey, if that is true, then you can help me 
find him.” 

Pompey smiled joyously. “Miss ’Yadney 
don’t need ter go far away fer dat. He i& 
right here. ’ ’ 

“ Here! ” echoed Evadne faintly. 

“ Lo, I am wid you all de days ’ ” Pompey 
repeated softly. “ De Lord Jesus don’t leave 
no gaps in his promises. Miss ’Yadney. He’s 
allers wid me wherever I is workin’ , an’ when 
I is up on my box a drivin’ troo de streets, 
he’s dere. He’s wid me continuous. Dere’s 
nuthin can seprate Pompey from de Lord,” 
he added with a sweet reverence. 

‘ ‘ How can you be so sure ? ’ ’ she asked 
wistfully. 

“I hez his word. Missy. You allers b’lieved 
your father ? ‘ I will not leave you orphuns, 
I will cum ter you.’ I ’specs dat verse is 
meant speshully fer you. Miss ’Yadney.” 

“But we can’t see him,” said Evadne. 

“Only wid de eye of faith. Missy. We 
trusts our friens in d6 dark. You didn’t need 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 57 

ter see your father ter know he wuz in de 
house ? ’ ’ 

“ Oh, no! ” Evadne’s voice trembled. 

“It’s jes’ de same wid my Father, Miss 
’Yadney.” 

“ How can you call God so, Pompey ? ” 

A great sweetness came over the homely 
face. 

“’Cause he hez sent his Sperit inter my 
heart, an’ poor black Pompey can look up inter 
de shinin of his face an’ say ‘ my Father, ’ 
’cause I’se hidden away in his Son. I’se a 
little branch abidin’ in de great Yine. I’se 
one wid de Lord Jesus.” 

“I don’t know where to look for him! ” 
Evadne cried disconsolately. 

Pompey laid aside his curry-comb and brush 
and folded his toil-worn hands. 

“Lord Jesus,” he said quietly, “here is 
thy little lamb. She’s out in de dark mount- 
ain, an’ she’s lonesum an’ hungry, an’ de col’ 
rain of sorrow is heatin’ on her head. Lord, 
thou is de good Shepherd. Let her hear thy 
voice a callin’ her. Carry this little lamb in 
thy bosom an’ giv her de joy of thy love. ’ ’ 

Judge Hildreth sat in his library far into the 
night. He was reading for the twentieth time 
the letter which Evadne had placed in his 


68 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


hands the morning after her arrival, and as he 
read, he frowned. 

“ It is ridiculous, absurd! he exclaimed im- 
patiently. “ Just of a piece with all of Len’s 
quixotic theories. By what possible chance 
could a child of that age know how to manage 
money ? She would make ducks and drakes 
of the whole business in less than a year ! ’ ’ 

A letter addressed to Evadne lay upon the 
pile of age- worn papers in an open drawer at 
his side. 

“ I enclose herewith a letter to Evadne,” his 
brother had written, ‘ ‘ giving full and minute 
explanations as to her best course in the mat- 
ter. These she will follow implicitly, under 
your supervision, and I feel confident the re- 
sult w’ill be a well-developed character along 
the lines on which women, through no fault of 
their own, are so lamentably deficient, namely, 
the proper conduct of business and management 
of money. ’ ’ 

Judge Hildreth looked again at the envelope 
with its clear, bold address. “ That is not the 
handwriting of a fool, ’ ’ he muttered. ‘ ‘ I 
wish I could make up my mind what to do.” 

Through the solemn hush of midnight his 
good and evil angels contended for his soul. 
In a strange silence he listened to their voices, 
the one insidious, tempting, the other urging 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


59 


him to take the upright course. Had his eyes 
not been holden he would have seen them, 
the one dark-browed, malignant, clothed in 
shadows, the other robed in light ; while other 
angels hovered near and looked on pityingly. 
The white-robed angel spoke first. 

‘‘ It is not a question to be decided by your 
judgment. There is no other course left open 
to you.” 

Mockingly the other answered. ‘‘It is a 
most unprecedented proceeding. You should 
have been appointed her guardian, with sole 
control.” 

“It is your brother’s last will and testa- 
ment.” 

‘ ‘ Some wills are made to be broken. This 
one is against sound reason. ’ ’ 

“It is the only honorable thing to do.” 

“It is unnecessary. The child need not 
know, and, if she did, would thank you for 
saving her from care.” 

“It is your brother’s money. He had a 
right to do as he will with his own. ’ ’ 

“If he had known to what straits this 
year’s speculations have brought you, he would 
be glad to give you a lift. If you do not have 
money now what are you going to do ? This 
has come just in time, for you know your 
credit is already strained to its utmost.” 


60 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


‘^Your niece will be anxious to have your 
advice as to profitable investments. You can 
borrow the money from her. ’ ’ 

“ That would be awkward, in case the bot- 
tom fell out of the mine. A little capital in 
hand would give you a chance to water the 
Panhattan stock and develop a new lead in 
the Silverwing.” 

“ If you use money that does not belong to 
you, you will be a thief! ” 

‘‘ If you do not use it, you will be a pauper. 
You have paper out now to five times the 
amount of your income. This is an interposi- 
tion of Providence to save you from ruin.” 

“ What right had you to put yourself in the 
way of ruin ? ’ ’ 

‘‘You did it to advance the interests of your 
family. The Bible says, ‘ If any provide not 
for his own, especially his own kindred, he . . . 
is worse than an infidel. ’ * ” 

‘ ‘ If you do this thing you will be dishon- 
ored in the sight of God. ’ ’ 

“ If you do not save yourself from this tem- 
porary embarrassment, you will be disgraced 
in the eyes of the world. You owe it to your 
position in society, and the church, to keep 
above the waves. ’ ^ 


Marginal rendering A. V, 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


61 


The listening spirits heard a low, malicious 
laugh of triumph and the white- robed angel 
turned sadly away. 

Judge Hildreth had thrust Evadne’s letter, 
with his own, far under the pile of papers, and 
double-locked the drawer ! 

Above the coach-house was a large room 
where Pompey kept a store of hay and grain, 
and there Evadne often found herself ensconced 
with Isabelle’s Bible, during the long morn- 
ings when she was left to amuse herself as best 
she might. The atmosphere of the house sti- 
fled her, and Pompey had loved her father ! 
It was scrupulously clean. Under Pompey’s 
regime spiders and moths found no tolerance, 
and a magnificent black cat effectually fright- 
ened away the audacious rodents which were 
tempted to depredations by the toothsome 
cereals in the great bins. In one corner 
Pompey had improvised for her a luxurious 
couch of hay and rugs, and in this fragrant re- 
treat Evadne studied her strange new book. 
She brought to it a mind absolutely untram- 
meled by creed or circumstance, and in this 
virgin soil God’s truth took root. Slowly the 
lifjht dawned. Hers was no shallow nature to 
leap to a hasty conclusion and then forsake it 
for a later thought. Gradually through the 


62 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


darkness, as God’s flowers grow, this human 
flower lifted itself towards the light. 

Sometimes she would sit for hours with the 
stately cat upon her knee, thinking, thinking, 
thinking, while Pompey sang his favorite 
hymns about his work and the mellow strains 
floated up the stairway and soothed her lonely 
heart. His childlike faith became to her a 
tower of refuge, and often, when bewildered 
by life’s inconsistencies, she felt as if the 
eternal realities were vanishing into mist, she 
was calmed and comforted by his happy trust. 

“ I cannot imagine, Evadne,” said Isabelle 
one evening at dinner, “ what pleasure you 
can find in sitting in a stable in company with 
a negro ! It certainly shows a most depraved 
taste.” 

‘‘ Christ was born in a stable, Isabelle.” 

<< What in the world has that to do with 
you?” 

“ I am beginning to think he has everything 
to do with me,” answered her cousin quietly. 

“Well,” said Isabelle with a toss of her 
head, “we are known by the company we 
keep. I should imagine Pompey’ s curriculum 
of manners was not on a very elevated 
plane.” 

‘ ‘ Pompey ! Isabelle, ’ ’ said J udge Hildreth 
suddenly. “ Why, my dear, Pompey is a 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 63 

modern Socrates, bound in ebony. There is no 
danger to be apprehended from him. ’ * 

“Well, it is a peculiar companionship for 
Judge Hildreth’s niece, that is all I have to 
say,” said Isabelle coldly, “ but chacun d son 
gout. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I read this morning in your Bible that God 
had chosen the base things of the world, and 
things which are despised, and things which are 
not, to bring to nought things that are. 
What does that mean, Isabelle ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Keally, Evadne, we shall have to send you 
to live with Doctor Jerome!” said her aunt, 
with a careless laugh. “You are getting to 
be a regular interrogation point. We are not 
Bible commentators, child, you cannot expect 
us to explain all the difficult passages. 

“ The Embroidery Club meets here to- 
morrow, Evadne,” exclaimed Marion, “ and I 
don’t believe you have touched your table 
scarf since they were here before. What will 
Celeste FoUingsby think? She works so rap- 
idly, and her drawn work is a perfect poem. ’ ’ 
“Ho, I have not,” confessed Evadne. “It 
seems such silly work, to draw threads apart 
and then sew them together again.” 

Isabelle elevated her eyebrows with a look 
of horror. 

Louis laughed. “ She’s a hopeless case, 


64 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


Isabelle. You’ll never convert her into an 
elegant trifler. You might as well throw up 
the contract.” 

“It seems to me, Evadne,” said his sister 
icily, ‘ ‘ that you might have a little regard for 
the decorums of society. Don’t, I beg of you, 
give utterance to such heresies before the girls. 
And I wish you would not call it my Bible. 
I did not make it. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ That is quite true, Evadne, ’ ’ said Louis 
gravely. “ If she had, there would have been 
a good deal left out. ’ ’ 

Isabella shot an angry glance at him but 
made no remark. Her brother’s sarcasms were 
always received in silence. 

“ Eva,” she said after a pause, “ I intend to 
call you by that name in future, — your full 
one is too troublesome. ’ ’ 

Evadne shivered. Her father was the only 
one who had ever abbreviated her name. ‘ ‘ I 
shall not answer to it,” she said quietly. 

‘ ‘ Why, pray ? ’ ’ 

“Because, I suppose, in common with the 
rest of the lower animals, I have a natural 
repugnance to being cut in two. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ How tiresome you are ! ’ ’ exclaimed Isa- 
belle with a pout. “ I do not object to my first 
syllable. All the girls at school call me Isa. 
Mamma, did you remember to order the tuUe 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


65 


for our wings? Claude Elvers has finished 
hers and they are perfectly sweet. She showed 
them to me this afternoon. ’ ’ 

“ Wings, Isabelle! What in the world are 
you up to now ? ’ ’ 

“ A Butterfly Social, Papa. We must 
raise money in some way. The church is 
frightfully in debt.” 

“That is a deplorable fact, but I did not 
know butterflies were famed as financiers. ’ ’ 

“ Oh, of course it is just for the novelty of 
the thing. The last social we had was a 
Mother Goose, and we have had Brownie sup- 
pers and Pink teas and everything else we 
could think of. We must have something to 
attract, you know.” 

‘ ‘ I wonder if it really pays ? ’ ’ ventured 
Marion. “ It never seems to me there is much 
left, after you deduct the cost of the prepara- 
tion. People might as well give the money 
outright. It would save them a world of 
trouble.” 

“Why, you silly child, it is to promote 
sociability in the church. As to the trouble, 
of course we do not count that. We must 
expect to make sacrifices. ’ ’ 

“But they do not make the church any 
more sociable,” said Marion boldly, who, hav- 
ing struck for freedom of thought, was follow- 
5 


66 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


ing up her advantage. ‘ ^ The same people 
take part every time and the others are left 
outside. ’ ’ 

“Nonsense!’’ said Isabelle hotly. “It is 
only those who cannot afford to take part, and 
think what a treat it is for them to look on ! ” 

“A sort of half-price theatre, ’ ’ said Louis 
with a sneer. 

“I don’t believe they find the looking on 
such fun as you think,” said Marion, who was 
astonished at herself. ‘ ^ Suppose you try if 
they wouldn’t like to take part and offer your 
place in the Cantata to Jemima Dobbs.” 

“Well done. Sis!” and Louis applauded 
softly. 

Isabelle’s lip curled. “Upon my word, 
Marion, 3^ou bid fair to become as hot an anar- 
chist as Louise Michel. It is a mystery to me 
where you find out the Christian names of all 
the ungainly people in the congregation. The 
other sopranos would feel complimented to 
have a prima-donna with a face like a full 
moon and hands like a blacksmith’s foisted 
upon them! One must have a little regard 
for appearances, ’ ’ and Isabelle drew her grace- 
ful figure up to its full height. 

“Jemima Dobbs isn’t dynamite, and I have 
no anarchical tendencies,” persisted Marion 
stoutly, — “but beauty is only skin deep, Isa- 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


67 


belle. She supports a sick mother and five 
children and that is more than any of the rest 
of us could do,’’ and Marion, frightened at 
her momentary temerity, shrank back into 
her shell. 

“It is a most unaccountable thing, Law- 
rence,” said Mrs. Hildreth, “ why the church 
should be so heavily encumbered. I am sure 
you contribute handsomely and the pew rents 
are high. There is always a large congrega- 
tion. I cannot understand. ’ ’ 

“ It is largely composed of transients though, 
my dear, and they never carry more than a 
nickel in their pockets, so the weight of the 
burden falls upon a few. The expenses are 
very heavy. Jerome wants to make it the 
most popular church in the city, and the new 
quartette proves an extravagant luxury. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Oh, well, ’ ’ said Mrs. Hildreth, ‘ ‘ of course 
one cannot grudge the money for that. Pro- 
fessional singing is such an attraction! The 
way Madame Kialto took that high C last 
Sunday was superb.” 

“Well,” said Isabelle, “ I don’t think there 
is any doubt that Doctor Jerome is the most 
popular preacher in the city. He is going to 
preach next Sunday on the moral progress of 
social sciences, and next month he commences 
his series of sermons on the social problems of 


68 A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 

the day. He does take such an interest in 
sociology.” 

“ But why doesn’t he preach Jesus Christ ? ” 
asked Evadne wonderingly. 

“You will get to be a regular fanatic, 
Evadne, if you ring the changes on that sub- 
ject so often. Doctor Jerome says he wants 
his people to have an intelligent idea of the 
progress of events. Of course everyone under- 
stands the Bible. 

“I do think he is the loveliest man!” she 
continued rapturously, “ he is so sympathetic ; 
and Celeste Follingsby says he is ‘perfectly 
heavenly in affliction. ’ Her little sister died 
last week, you know. It is so awkward that 
it should have happened just now. She will 
not be able to take any part in the Cantata, 
and she had the sweetest dress!” 

“Very ill-timed of Providence!” said Louis 
gravely. ‘ ‘ What a pity it is, Isabelle, that 
you couldn’t have the regulation of affairs.” 
He yawned and strolled lazily towards the fire- 
place. When he looked round again, Evadne 
was the only other occupant of the room. 

“Well, coz, what do you think of the situa- 
tion? I belong to the worldlings, of course, 
but I confess the idea of Jesus Christ at a 
Butterfly Social is tremendously incongruous. 
We have the best of it, Evadne, for we live 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


69 


up to our theories. Give it up, coz. You’ll 
find it a hopeless task to make the Bible and 
modern Christianity agree.” 

He looked at his watch. 

“ I say, Evadne, Jefferson is playing at the 
Metropolitan in Kichard III. to-night. Let us 
go and hear him.” 

And Evadne went, and enjoyed it im- 
mensely. 


CHAPTEE YII, 


‘‘I AM going for a long ride into the coun- 
try, Evadne,’’ said her uncle one morning, 
“ would you like to come with me? ” 

Evadne gave a glad assent. After her beau- 
tiful tropical life, it seemed to her as if she 
should choke, shut away from the wide ex- 
panse of sky which she loved, among monoto- 
nous rows of houses and dingy streets. 

As they left the city behind them and the 
road swept out into the open, she gave a long 
sigh of delight. Her uncle laughed. 

‘‘ Well, Evadne, does it please you? 

“ It is the first time I have felt as if I could 
breathe,” she said. 

“ So you don’t take kindly to Marlborough? 
Well, I suppose it is a rude awakening from 
your sunny land, but you will get used to it. 
We grow accustomed to all life’s disagreeable 
surprises as time rolls on. ’ ’ 

Evadne shivered. “ I do not think I shall 
ever grow accustomed to it. Uncle Lawrence.” 

“ Ah, you are young. We grow wiser as 
our hair turns grey.” 


10 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 

‘‘If that is wisdom, I do not care to grow 
wise. ’ ’ 

“Not grow wise, Evadne! ” said her uncle 
quizzically. “ In this age, when women claim 
a surplusage of all the brain power bestowed 
upon the race ! What will you do when you 
have to attend to business ? ” 

“ Business,” echoed Evadne, “ I have never 
thought about it. Uncle Lawrence.” 

“No turn for dollars and cents, eh? Did your 
father never consult you about his affairs? ” 
Evadne’ s lip quivered. ‘ ‘ Oh, yes, ’ ’ she said, 
and her words were a cry of pain, “ he con- 
sulted me about everything, but I do not think 
there was ever any mention of money. Does 
money constitute business. Uncle Lawrence? ” 
“Wealth gives power, Evadne. Money is 
one of the greatest things in the world. While 
we are on the subject I may as well tell 
you that your father wrote me concerning 
the disposition of his property. I shall look 
after your interests carefully, together with 
my own, and give you the same quarterly 
allowance that my own girls have. When you 
are older I will go more into detail, but it is 
not worth while now to worry your head over 
columns of uninteresting figures. I shall open 
an account for you at the National Bank and 
you can draw on that for your expenses. Your 


72 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


aunt will initiate you into the mysteries of shop- 
ping. By the way, you must have gone through 
that experience in Barbadoes. How did you 
manage there?” 

Evadne turned her head away and clenched 
her hands tightly as the flood of bitter-sweet 
memories threatened to engulf her. 

‘ ‘ Papa always went with me, ’ ’ she said 
slowly, “ whatever he liked I chose.” 

Judge Hildreth gave a sigh of relief. He 
had extricated himself from a difficult position 
with diplomatic skill. It did not occur to him 
that a lie which is half the truth is the mean- 
est kind of a lie. He had acquainted his niece 
with all that was necessary for her to knoAv at 
present, and at the same time left himself a 
loophole of escape from the imputation of dis- 
regarding his brother’s wishes. "When she 
became old enough to assume the responsibility, 
and he got his affairs straightened out suffi- 
ciently to admit of transferring to her care the 
funds which were so absolutely essential to his 
present success, he would put Evadne in full 
possession of her inheritance. Eesults had 
proved the wisdom of his decision. By her 
own acknowledgment his niece had never 
given a thought to the subject. His brother’s 
plan would be a height of imprudence from 
which he was bound to shield her. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


73 


In Evadne’s mind also thought was busy. 
‘‘Money is one of the greatest things in the 
world,” her uncle had said, and she had read 
that morning, ‘ ‘ tongues shall cease, and know- 
ledge shall be done away, but love never faileth. 
Now abideth faith, hope, and love ; the great- 
est of these is love.” Was Louis right? Did 
Christians and the Bible not agree? And the 
business of her life was to find J esus Christ. 
Was there any money in that? 

When they reached Hollywood, where Judge 
Hildreth had business with Mr. Hawthorne, 
Evadne was in an ecstasy of silent rapture. 
She had never dreamed what a New England 
farm might be. Its varied beauty, clad in the 
dazzling robes of early summer, came upon her 
with the suddenness of a revelation. She 
begged to be allowed to wait for her uncle out 
of doors, and wandered slowly on past the great 
barns to where the wide gate stretched across 
the green road. When she reached it she 
stopped and looked with keen delight at the 
beautiful creatures in the fields on either side. 
The sunshine fell upon her with loving warmth; 
in the distance she could hear the whirr of a 
mowing machine and the shouts of the men at 
work. A magnificent young horse thrust his 
head familiarly over the fence near by, and 
under the shade of a great tree Primrose, with 


n 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


her graceful calf beside her, was lazily chew- 
ing her cud. 

Everything spoke of contentment and com- 
fort and peace. An unutterable longing seized 
upon the lonely girl. Here at least she would 
have God’s creatures to love, and his woods 
and the sky ! She laid her head down upon 
the gate with a smothered cry. 

“If I only belonged, — like the cows! ” 

“Pitty lady! ” 

Startled by the sweet, baby voice, Evadne 
looked up to find a pair of laughing blue eyes 
peeping sympathetically at her. The sun- 
bonnet had fallen back and the golden curls 
were tossed in luxurious confusion over the 
little head. 

Evadne caught the child in her arms. 

“You little darling ! ” 

“Yes, me is,” said the child, resting con- 
tentedly within Evadne’ s embrace, as if, with 
the mysterious telepathy of childhood, she 
recognized a spiritual affinity which she was 
bound to help. “ Me’ s very nice. Don says 
so.” 

‘ ‘ And who is Don ? ’ ’ asked Evadne. 

“Don’s my bootiful man. Me’s doin’ to 
marry Don when me gets big. Oh, dere he 
is ! ” and breaking from Evadne, she rolled 
herself between the bars of the gate and ran at 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


75 


the top of her speed towards John Kandolph, 
who just then appeared around a bend in the 
road, one arm thrown lightly over the neck of 
the horse he had been training. 

‘ ‘ Halloo, Hansie I ” Evadne heard his cheery 
greeting, saw him stoop and lift the child on 
to the horse’s back, and was so interested in 
the pretty scene that she forgot she was a 
stranger. When she came to herself with a 
start the little cavalcade had reached the gate 
and John Kandolph stood before her with his 
hat in his hand. 

Evadne bowed. It is so beautiful ! ” she 
said. ‘ ‘ I have been waiting for my uncle and 
lost myself among the harmonies of Nature. ’ ’ 

John Randolph’s eyes lightened. ‘‘It is 
God’s world, ’ ’ he answered with a sweet rever- 
ence. 

Evadne looked full into the shining face. 
“ Do you know Jesus Christ ? ” she asked im- 
pulsively. 

The face softened into a great tenderness. 

‘ ‘ He is my King. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ And do you love him ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ W ith all there is of me. ’ ’ 

A servant came just then to say the Judge 
was waiting. 

“ I will come, at once,” Evadne said court- 
eously. Then she turned once more to John. 


76 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


‘‘ And what do you think of life ? ” she cried 
softly. 

“Life! ” he said, and there was a strange, 
exultant ring in his voice. ‘ ‘ Life is a beau- 
tiful possibility.” 

There was no time for more, but in the 
spirit realm of kinship no multitude of words 
is needed. Only a few moments had passed, 
yet in that little space two souls had met. 
What did it matter if the devious turnings of 
life should lead them far apart, or the barring 
gate of circumstance forever separate them ? 
They had found each other ! 

“Pitty lady! — Nan loves oo, dear,” and 
the child whom John held seated on the broad 
top rail of the gate, held up her rosy lips for a 
kiss. 

Instinctively Evadne held out her hand to 
John. Spiritual ethics laugh at the conven- 
tionalities of time. “Good-bye,” she said, 

‘ ‘ and thank you. ’ ’ 

She looked back once to wave her hand to 
little Nan. John was standing as she had 
left him, one arm encircling the child who 
nestled close to him, Avhile over his right 
shoulder the horse had thrust his handsome 
head. Always afterward she saw him so. It 
was a parable of what God had meant man to 
be. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


17 


Long after the sound of the carriage wheels 
had died away J ohn stood motionless, behold- 
ing again as in a vision the earnest face and 
wonderful grey eyes. Then he stooped for his 
hat which had fallen to the ground when he 
had taken her hand in his. As he did so, he 
saw a dainty bit of lawn lying on the other 
side of the gate. He put his hand between 
the bars and caught it just as the breeze was 
about to blow it away. He looked at the name 
which was delicately traced in one corner with 
a strange sense of pleasure : Evadne. 

‘ ‘ It fits her, ’ ’ he said to himself. ‘ ‘ There’s 
a sweet elusiveness about her. She makes me 
think of a bird. She’ll let you come just so 
far, until she gets to trust you, and then you’ll 
have aU her sweetness. ’ ’ 

He drew a long breath which was strangely 
like a sigh, and, folding the handkerchief 
carefully, put it in his pocket. 

‘ ‘ Pitty lady, ’ ’ murmured little Han drowsily, 
and John caught her up and kissed her, — he 
could not have told why. 


‘ ‘ I do think Dorothy Bruce is the kindest 
creature ! ” exclaimed Marion one Saturday 
morning as they lingered with a pleasant sense 
of leisure over the breakfast table. “ She 


78 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


offered to give up the whole of to-day to me. 
I thought it was lovely when she works so 
hard all the week. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Give it up to you. Why, what do you mean, 
Marion ? We never have anything to do with 
her in school. What could you possibly want 
of her here ? ’ ’ 

“Oh, it is that doleful algebra,” sighed 
Marion. “ It is utterly impossible for me to 
get it into my head, and Dorothy takes to it like 
a duck to water, and she is a born teacher. 
Madame Castle says her aptitude for imparting 
knowledge amounts to genius. Y ou must allow 
it was kind of her, Isabelle. ’ ’ 

Isabelle shrugged her shoulders. “Self- 
interested, most likely. That sort of people 
would do anything to obtain a foothold. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Oh, Isabelle ! ’ ’ cried Evadne. ‘ ‘ Do 
have a little faith in your fellow-man ! Why 
should you set yourself up on a pinnacle and 
despise everyone who is poor, when the father 
of us all hoed for a living ? ’ ’ 

Louis looked up from the paper he was read- 
ing. “There are two things Isabelle has no 
faith in, Evadne. The Declaration of Indepen- 
dence and the book she loaned you. One says 
all men are free and equal, — the other that God 
has made of one blood all the nations of the 
earth. Her Serene Highness objects to this. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


79 


She will have the blue blood come in some- 
where, though where she gets it from heaven 
only knows I” 

‘‘Louis, I do wish you would not be 
so radical ! ’ ’ Isabelle said, peevishly. “You 
must admit there is such a thing as culture and 
refinement.” 

‘ ‘ Certainly I admit it. The only thing I 
object to is that you talk as if you possessed a 
monopoly of the article, whereas I hold that 
it is just a question of environment. It is no 
thanks to you that you were not born a Hot- 
tentot or a Choctaw. Give yourself the same 
ancestors and surroundings as your chimney- 
sweep and wherein would you be superior to 
him ? And when it comes to ancestry, by the 
way, probably Miss Bruce can trace back to 
some of the grand old Highland chiefs who 
covered themselves with glory long before the 
lineage of Hildreth had emerged from obscu- 
rity. ’ ’ 

“I don’t know anyone who likes to choose 
his company better than you ! ” observed Isa- 
belle sarcastically. 

“ Certainly I do. Similarity of environ- 
ment presupposes similarity of tastes. Prob- 
ably my idea of enjoyment would not accord 
with the chimney-sweep’s, but at the same 
time I don’t look down on the poor beggar be- 


80 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


cause he hasn’t been as fortunate as I in get- 
ting his bread well buttered. There is a law 
of cultivation for humanity as well as plants. 
Surround a succession of generations with all 
the advantages of wealth, education and travel, 
and you produce the aristocrat ; just as you 
get the delicate Solanum Wendlandi from the 
humble potato blossom. Set your aristocrat 
in the wilderness to earn his living by the 
sweat of his brow, — ^let the rain and wind beat 
upon his delicate skin, — shut him away from 
all the elevating influences to which he has 
been accustomed, and, in course of time, what 
have you ? His descendants have retrograded. 
The Solanum has become a potato again. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ That is all very well, ’ ’ said Isabelle, ‘ ‘ but 
I believe the instinct of culture will be dor- 
mant somewhere. ’ ’ 

“ Then why dp you not recognize it in your 
chimney-sweep ? For all you know he may 
be the descendant of some impecunious sire of 
a lordly house. Probably plenty of them 
are.” 

Louis rose and tossed the paper carelessly to 
his mother, who had been an amused listener 
to the discussion. It never occurred to him to 
do so before. "WTiat did women want to know 
about politics or the turf ? 

“Jesus Christ never seemed to care about 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 81 

externals,” said Evadne softly. ‘‘He chose 
his friends among the common people. ’ ’ 

“For pity’s sake, Evadne!” cried Isabelle. 
“ When will you learn that the Bible is not to 
be taken literally?” 

“Hot to be taken literally!” echoed 
Evadne in wonderment. “ How is it to be 
taken then?” 

‘ ‘ Isabelle means that we have to make al- 
lowances,” said her aunt. “ Christ could do 
a great many things that you cannot. ’ ’ 

Evadne was silent, while the words of Jesus 
kept ringing in her ears: “For I have given 
you an example, that ye also should do as I 
have done to you. ” If only she could under- 
stand ! 

“ By the way, Evadne,” said Mrs. Hildreth, 

‘ ‘ I beg you will not repeat your mistake of 
yesterday. ’ ’ 

“ What do you mean. Aunt Kate?” 

‘ ‘ Bringing such a disreputable character into 
the house. When I came in and found her 
sitting in the haU and you talking to her I was 
perfectly paralyzed. Horrible! Why her 
rags were abominable, and her feet were 
bare ! ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ But she had no shoes. Aunt Kate, and she 
was just my height. I was so glad that my 
clothes would fit her.” 

6 


82 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


A pretty thing to have your clothes pa- 
raded through the streets by such a creature ! 
Most likely she would pawn them for gin. I 
am sure she was an improper character. ’ ’ 
‘‘But, Aunt Kate,” pleaded Evadne, 
“ Jesus Christ saj^s we must clothe the naked 
and feed the hungry if we would be his follow- 
ers. I must do as he tells me for I am going 
to follow him. ’ ’ 

“Your uncle does enough of that for the 
family, ’ ’ said her aunt coldly. “ I do not 
wish you to try any such experiments again. ’ ’ 
Puzzled and chilled, Evadne left the room. 
Was obeying the commands of Christ only an 
“ experiment ” after all ? 

She crept up to her favorite retreat and 
threw herself upon her gayly covered couch. 
“Oh, Jesus Christ!” she cried passionately, 

‘ ‘ I am glad I did not live in Galilee when you 
were there ! Aunt Kate and Isabelle would 
have thought it bad form for me to follow you 
in the crowd where the sinners were. But 
they can’t keep me from doing so now I 

“ Oh, I wish I were dead! Ko one would 
care. Yes, Pompey would be sorry. Louis 
would call it ‘ a sable attachment, ’ but Pompey 
loved my father. Oh, dearest! dearest!” 

She buried her head in her hands while 
wave after wave of desolation broke over the 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


83 


lonely soul. ‘‘A beautiful possibility” her 
knight of the gate had said. Could life be- 
come that to her ? 

Downstairs Pompey began to sing, — 

“ Shall we meet beyond the river, 

Where the surges cease to roll, 

Where in all the bright foreyer 
Sorrow ne’er shall press the soul ? ” 

The rich vibrations rolled up and trembled 
about her. She held out her arms and her 
voice broke in a cry of triumphant faith, 
‘‘Yes, we shall meet, Lord Jesus, face to 
face!” 


CHAPTEK YIII. 


‘‘PoMPEY,” said Evadne one morning, ‘‘I 
am going to see your wife.” 

The black face beamed with satisfaction. 
“Dyce’ll be mighty uplifted, Miss ’Yadney. 
She think a powerful sight o’ Mass Lennux. ’ ’ 
Evadne stood watching him as he gave finish- 
ing touches to the silver mountings of the 
handsome harness. “I don’t believe there 
is another harness in Marlborough that shines 
like yours, Pompey,” she said with a laugh. 
“You are as particular with it as though every 
day was a special occasion. ’ ’ 

“So ’tis, Miss ’Yadney,” said Pompey 
simply. “Can’t slight nuthin’ when de Lord’s 
lookin’ on. Whoa, Brutis! Dere’sgoin’ ter 
be Holiness to de Lord written on de bells ob 
de horses bimeby. Missy. I’se got it writ dere 
now. ’ ’ 

“I believe you have, Pompey,” said Evadne 
soberly, “for you do your work just as per- 
fectly whether Uncle Lawrence is going to see 
it or not. It almost seems as if you were try- 
ing to please someone out of sight. ’ ’ 

84 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


85 


Pompey drew himself up to his full height. 
“ I’sea frien’ obde Lord Jesus, Miss ’Yadney. 
I’se got ter do everything perfect ’cause ob 
dat. Couldn’t bring no disgrace on my Lord.” 

“But would that disgrace him?” asked 
Evadne in wonderment. 

“ Why, yes. Missy. Ef I wuz a poor, shifles’ 
crittur, only workin’ fer de praise o’ men, 
folks would say, — ‘ he’s no differen’ frum de 
rest; you’ve got to keep yer eye on him ef 
yer want tings done properly. De King’s 
chillen ain’t no better dan de worl’s chillen 
be.’ 

“ De Lord Jesus, he say to me, — ‘ Pompey, 
you must be faithful in de little things as well 
as in de big. I never slurred nuthin when I 
wuz a walkin’ up and down troo Palestine. I 
sees you, Pompey ; don’t make no difference 
whether de earthly master does or not. ’ So I 
does all de little tings to de Lord, Miss ’ Yadney, 
an’ de Jedge knows he can depen’ on Pompey. 
Whenever he wants me, I’se here.” 

“That is lovely!” said Evadne softly. 
“ But don’t you get dreadfully tired doing the 
same work over and over ? Every day you 
have to do exactly the same things. It is as 
bad as a tread-mill. You just keep on going 
round and round.” 

Pompey gave one of his low chuckles. 


86 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


‘‘ ’Specs dat’s de way in dis worl’,Miss ’ Yadney. 
"We’se got ter keep on eatin’, an’ we can’t 
sleep enuff one night ter last fer a week, — but 
I ’low it’s jes’ one o’ de beautiful laws ob de 
Lord, — de sun an’ de moon an’ de stars keeps 
a’goin over de same ground most continuous. 
So long as we’se doin’ his will. Missy, it 
don’t matter much whether we’se goin’ roun’ 
an’ roun’ or straight ahead. Stan’ over, 
Ceesah!” and Pompey gave a final polish to 
the horse’s already immaculate legs. 

u "Why don’t you blacken their hoofs, Pom- 
pey? They used to do it in Barbadoes.” 

Pompey’s eyes twinkled. ‘‘Dat’s a no 
’count livery notion. Miss ’Yadney, a coverin’ 
up de cracks an’ makin’ de horse’s hufs look 
better dan dey is. De King’s chillens can’t 
stoop ter any sech decepshuns. De Lord Jesus 
says, ‘Pompey, I is de truff. You’s got ter 
speak de truff an’ live de truff ef you belongs 
ter me.’ We ain’t got no call ter cover up 
anything. Miss ’Yadney, ef we’se livin’ ez de 
Lord wants us to. ’ Sides, der ain’t no ’cashun 
fer it. Ef we keeps de stable pure an’ de food 
good an’ gives de horse de right kind of exer- 
cise an’ plenty of ’tention, de hufs will take 
care ob demselves,” and he held Caesar’s foot 
up for her inspection. 

“Halloo, Evadne, are you taking lessons in 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


87 


farriery ? "What’s the matter, Pompey? Has 
Caesar got a sand crack? ” and Louis sauntered 
up, the inevitable cigar between his lips. 

“I don’t ’low my horses ever hez sech 
things. Mass Louis,” said Pompey grandly. 

‘ ‘ Ha, ha ! what a conceited old beggar you 
are. But I’ll give the devil his due and 
acknowledge the horses are a credit to you. 
He held a dollar towards him balanced on 
his forefinger. “ Here, take this and fill your 
pipe with it.” 

“Don’t want no pay fer doin’ my dooty, 
Mass Louis. ’ ’ 

“ Pshaw, man ! Take a tip, can’t you?” 

Pompey shook his head. “I don’t smoke. 
Mass Louis.” 

‘ ‘ Don’t smoke ! ’ ’ ejaculated Louis. “You 
don’t here, I know, because the Judge is 
afraid of fire, but you’ll never make me believe 
that you don’t spend your evenings over the 
fire with your pipe. You darkeys are as fond 
of one as the other. ’ ’ 

“You’s mistaken. Mass Louis,” said Pom- 
pey quietly. 

“ ’Pon my word! And why don’t you 
smoke. Pomp? You don’t know what you’re 
missing. It is the greatest comfort on earth.” 

“’Specs I don’t need sech poor comfort. 
Mass Louis. I takes my comfort wid de Lord. ’ ’ 


88 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


Pompey’s voice was low and sweet. Evadne 
felt her heart glow. 

‘‘But come now, Pomp,” persisted Louis, 
“that’s all nonsense. You must have some 
reason for not smoking. Everybody does. 
Come, I insist on your telling me. ’ ’ 

Pompey was silent for a moment. ‘ ‘ ‘ The 
pure in heart shall see God,’ ” .he said sloAvly. 
“I ’low. Mass Louis, de King’s chillen’s got 
ter be pure in body too. ’ ’ ’ 

“You insolent scoundrel ! How dare you? ” 
and Louis dashed the glowing end of his cigar 
in the negro’s face. 

For a moment Pompey stood absolutely still, 
— the cigar which had left its mark upon his 
cheek lying smouldering at his feet, — then he 
turned quietly and walked away. 

Louis strode out of the coach-house. Evadne 
followed him, her eyes blazing. “You are 
a coward!” she cried passionately. “You 
would not have dared to do that to a man who 
could hit you back. You forced him to tell j^ou 
and then struck him for doing it I If this is 
your culture and refinement, 1 despise it ! I 
am going to be a Christian, like Pompey. 
That is grand 1 ’ ’ 

“Well done, coz!” and Louis affected a 
laugh. “ There’s not much of the ‘ meek and 
lowly ’ in evidence just now at any rate.” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


89 


He loo&fed after her as she walked away, 
while her indignant tones still lingered in his 
ears. “ By Jove ! there’s something to her 
though she is so quiet ! I must cultivate the 
child. ’ ’ 

Seen through Evadne’s clear eyes his action 
looked despicable and his better nature sug- 
gested an apology, but he swept the sugges- 
tion aside with a muttered “Pshaw! he’s 
only a nigger,” and turned carelessly on his 
heel. 

“You are Dyce!” cried Evadne impulsive- 
ly when she reached the cottage in whose open 
doorway a pleasant-faced colored woman was 
standing. “Pompeyhas told me about you. 
I think your husband is one of the grandest 
men I know. ’ ’ 

“Thank you. Missy. "Walk right in, I’se 
proper glad ter see Mass Lennux’s chile.” 

“Why, how did you know me?” asked 
Evadne wonderingly. 

The woman laughed softly. ‘ ‘ Laws, honey, 
you’se de livin’ image of yer Pa.” 

She excused herself after a few moments and 
Evadne laid her head against the cushions of a 
comfortable old rocking chair and rested. She 
wondered sometimes where her old strength 
had gone. She had never felt tired in Barba- 
does. The tiny room was full of a homely com- 


90 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


fort which did her heart good. There were 
books lying on the table and flowers in the 
window, a handsome cat purred in front of the 
fireplace, and on a bracket in one corner an 
asthmatic clock ticked off the hours with 
wheezy vigor. In an adjoining room Evadne 
could see a bed with its gay patchwork quilt 
of Dyce’s making, and in the little kitchen be- 
yond she heard her singing as she trod to and 
fro. A couple of dainty muslin dresses were 
draped over chairs, for Dyce was the finest 
clear starcher in Marlborough, and her kitchen 
was all too small to hold the products of her 
skill. She entered the room again bearing a 
tray covered with a snowy napkin on which 
were quaint blue plates of delicious bread and 
butter, pumpkin pie, golden browned as only 
Dyce could bake it, and a cup of fragrant 
coffee. 

‘ ‘ I did not know anything could taste quite 
so good!” Evadne said when she had fin- 
ished, “you must be a wonderful cook.” 

Dyce laughed, well pleased. “When de 
Lord gives us everything in perfecshun, ’specs 
it would be terrible shifles’ of me ter spoil it 
in de cookin’, Miss ’Yadney.” 

“The Lord,” repeated Evadne. “You 
know him too, then ? You must, if you live 
with Pompey.” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 91 

Dyce’s face grew luminous. “ He is my 
joy ! ’ ’ she said softly. 

‘‘And does he make you happy all the 
time? ” asked the girl wistfully. “You seem 
to have to work as hard as Pompey. What is 
it makes you so glad? ” 

“ Laws, honey, how kin I help bein’ glad? 
De chile o’ de King, onde way ter my Father’s 
palace. Ain’t dat enuff ’cashun ter keep a 
poor cullered woman rejoicin’ all de day long? 
I’se so happy I’se a singin’ allde time over my 
work, an’ in de street ; it don’t matter where 
I be.” 

“ But you can’t singin the streets, Dyce!” 

“ Laws, chile, don’t yer know de heart kin 
sing when de lips is silent ? It’s de heart 
songs dat de King tinks de most of, but when 
de heart gits too full, den de lips hez ter do 
deir share. ’ ’ 

“But suppose you were to lose your eye- 
sight, or Pompey got sick, or ” 

Dyce gave one of her soft laughs. “ Laws, 
honey, I never supposes. De Lord’s got no 
use fer a lot o’ supposin’ chillen who’s alters 
frettin’ demselves sick fer fear Satan ’ll git de 
upper han’. De Lord’s reignin’, dat’s enuff 
fer me. I ’low he’ll take care o’ me in de 
best way.” 

Evadne looked again at the exquisitely laun- 


92 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


dered dresses. ‘ ‘ Why do you work so hard ? ’ ’ 
she asked. ‘‘Doesn’t Pompey get enough to 
live on? ” 

“ Oh, yes, honey ; de Jedge gives good 
wages ; but yer see, we wants to do so much 
fer Jesus dat de wages don’t hold out.” 

“ So much for Jesus!” 

“Why, yes. Missy. He says ef we loves 
him we’ll do what he tells us, an’ he’s toP us 
ter feed de hungry, an’ clothe de naked, an’ 
go preach de gospel. So, when we cum ter 
talk it ober, it seem drefful shifles’ in me ter 
be doin’ nothin’ when de Lord worked night 
an’ day, so I begun ter take in laundry work 
an’ now we hev more money ter spen’ on de 
Lord. But we never hez enuff. De worl’s so 
full o’ perishin’ souls an’ starvin’ bodies. I 
tells Pompey I never wanted ter be rich till I 
began ter do de King’s bizniss. It’s drefful 
comfortin’ work. Miss ’Yadney.” 

The chill March wind blew fiercely along 
the streets of Marlborough one afternoon and 
Evadne shivered. She had been standing for 
an hour wedged tightly against the doors of 
the Opera House by an impatient crowd which 
swayed hither and thither in a fruitless effort 
to force an entrance. It was Signor Fence’s 
farewell to America and it was his whim to 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


93 


make his last concert a popular one, with no 
seats reserved. Every nerve in her body 
seemed strained to its utmost tension and her 
head was in a whirl. She turned and faced 
the crowd. A sea of faces ; some eager, some 
sullen, some frowning, all impatient. The 
scraps of merry talk which had floated to her 
at intervals during the earlier stages of the 
waiting were no longer heard. A gloomy 
silence seemed to have settled down upon every 
one. Suddenly a laugh rang out upon the 
keen air, — so full of a clear joyousness that 
people involuntarily straightened their droop- 
ing shoulders, as if inspired with a new sense 
of vigor and smiled in sympathy. 

Evadne started. Surely she had heard that 
voice before ! It must be, — yes, it was, — her 
knight of the gate ! Their eyes met. A great 
light swept over his face and he lifted his hat. 
Then the surging crowd carried him out of her 
range of vision. 

“ I don’t see what you find to look so pleased 
about, Evadne,” grumbled Isabelle, as they 
drove homeward. “ For my part I think the 
whole thing was a fizzle.” 

‘ ‘ I was thinking, ’ ’ said Evadne slowly, ‘ ‘ of 
the power of a laugh. ’ ’ 

“The power of a laugh! What in the 
world do you mean?” 


94 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


‘ ‘ I mean that it is a great deal better for 
ourselves to laugh than to cry, and vastly more 
comfortable for our neighbors. ’ ’ 

“ Evadne will not be down,” announced 
Marion the next morning as she entered the 
breakfast room. She caught a dreadful cold 
at the concert yesterday and she can’t lift her 
head from the pillow. Celestine thinks she is 
sickening for a fever. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Dear me, how tiresome ! ’ ’ exclaimed Mrs. 
Hildreth. “I have such a horror of having 
sickness in the house, — one never knows where 
it will end. King the bell for Sarah, Marion, 
to take up her breakfast. ’ ’ 

“ It is no use. Mamma. She says she does 
not want anything. ’ ’ 

“ But that is nonsense. The child must eat. 
If it is fever, she will need a nurse, and nurses 
always make such an upheaval in a house.” 

“ You had better go up, my dear, and see 
for yourself,” said Judge Hildreth. ‘‘Celes- 
tine may be mistaken. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Mercy ! ’ ’ cried Isabelle, “it is to be 
hoped she is ! I have the most abject horror 
of fevers and that is enough to make me catch 
it. Fancy having one’s head shorn like a con- 
vict ! The very idea is appalling. ’ ’ 

“Oh, of course if there is the slightest dan- 
ger, you and Marion will have to go to Ma- 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


95 


dame Castle’s to board,” said her mother. 
“ It is very provoking that Evadne should have 
chosen to be sick just now.” 

“ ISTot likely the poor girl had much choice 
in the matter,” laughed Louis. ‘‘ There are a 
few things, lady mother, over which the best 
of us have no control. ’ ’ 

“ I wish you would go up and see the child, 
Kate,” said Judge Hildreth impatiently. “ If 
there is the least fear of anything serious I will 
send the carriage at once for Doctor Eusse. 
It is a risky business transplanting tropical 
flowers into oui; cold climate.” 

The kind-hearted French maid was bending 
over Evadne’ s pillow when Mrs. Hildreth en- 
tered the room. She had grown to love the 
quiet stranger whose courtesy made her work 
seem light, and it was with genuine regret that 
she whispered to her mistress, — “ It is the 
feevar. I know it well. My seestar had it 
and died.” 

Evadne’ s eyes were closed and she took no 
notice of her aunt’s entrance. Mrs. Hildreth 
spoke to her and then left the room hurriedly 
to summon her husband. Even her unpractised 
eyes showed her that her niece was very iU. 

Doctor Eusse shook his head gravely. ‘ ‘ It 
is a serious case,” he said, and I do not know 
where you will find a nurse. I never remem- 


96 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


ber a spring when there was so much sickness 
in the city. I sent my last nurse to a patient 
yesterday and since then have had two applica- 
tions for one. It is most unfortunate. The 
young lady will need constant care. She re- 
quires a person of experience. ’ ’ 

Pompey, waiting to drive the doctor home, 
caught the words, spoken as he descended the 
steps to enter the carriage, and came forward 
eagerly. ‘ ‘ If you please. Missus, ’ ’ he said, 
touching his hat, “ Dyce would come. She’s 
hed a powerful sight of ’sperience nussin’ 
fevers in I^'ew Orleans. She’d be proper glad 
ter tend Miss ’Yadney.” 

“ How is that ? ” questioned the bus}?- doctor. 
Oh, your wife, my good fellow? The very 
thing. Let her come at once. ’ ’ 

So Dyce came, and into her sympathetic 
ears were poured the delirious ravings of the 
lonely heart which had been so suddenly torn 
from its genial surroundings of love and hap- 
piness and thrust into the chilling atmosphere 
of misunderstanding and neglect. 

Every day the patient grew weaker and 
after each visit the doctor looked graver. 
Mrs. Hildreth began to feel the gnawings of 
remorse, as she thought of the lonely girl to 
whom she had so coldly refused a daughter’s 
place; and the Judge’s thoughts grew unbear- 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 97 

able as he remembered his broken trust ; even 
Louis missed the earnest face which he had 
grown to watch with a curious sense of pleas- 
ure ; while the girls at school felt their hearts 
grow warm as they thought of the young 
cousin so soon to pass through the valley of 
the shadow. 

But Evadne did not die. The fever spent 
itself at last and there followed long days of 
utter prostration both of mind and body. 
Dyce’s cheery patience never failed. Her 
sunny nature diffused a bright hopefulness 
throughout the sick chamber, until Evadne 
would lie in a dreamy content, almost fancy- 
ing herself back in the old home as she listened 
to the musical tones and watched the dusky 
hands which so deftly ministered to her com- 
fort. One day after she had lain for a long 
time in silence, she looked up at her faithful 
nurse and the grey eyes shone lilce stars. 

‘^Dyce!” she cried softly. “ I have found 
Jesus Christ!” 

7 


CHAPTEE IX. 


Eeginald Hawthorne lay upon a couch on 
the wide veranda of his lovely home. The 
birds held high carnival around him, — nesting 
in the large cherry tree, playing hide and seek 
among the fragrant apple blossoms and making 
the air melodious with their merry songs. 
Brilliant orioles flashed to and fro like gleams 
of gold in the sunlight, as they built their airy 
hammocks high among the swaying branches 
of the great willow, and one inquisitive robin 
swept boldly through the clustering vines which 
screened the front of the veranda and perched 
upon his shoulder. He heard the merry hum 
of the bees at work and the strident call of the 
locusts, mingled with the distant neighing of 
horses and the soft lowing of the cows, but all 
the sweetness of nature was powerless to lift 
the gloom which seemed to envelop him as in 
a shroud. His face was white and drawn with 
pain and there were heavy rings beneath his 
eyes. Eeginald Hawthorne would be a cripple 
for life. 

The College Football Club had met a Hew 
98 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 99 

York team in the yearly contest, which was 
looked forward to as one of the events in the 
athletic world, and Eeginald had been foremost 
among the leaders of the play. Fierce and 
long had been the fight and the enthusiastic 
spectators had shouted themselves hoarse with 
applause or groaned in despair when the honor 
of Marlborough seemed likely to be lost. Then 
had come a mighty onward rush and the oppo- 
sing forces concentrated into one seething mass 
of struggling humanity. When they drew 
apart at last the College boys had made the 
welkin ring with shouts of victory, but their 
bravest champion lay white and still upon the 
field. 

Long days and nights of pain had followed, 
when John and Mrs. Hawthorne were at 
their wits’ end to alleviate the sufferings of the 
unfortunate boy. How the pain had resolved 
itself into a dull aching but Eeginald would 
never walk without a crutch again. 

The mortification to his father was extreme. 
A passionate man, he had centred all his hopes 
upon his son, whose position in life he fondly 
expected to repay him for his years of unremit- 
ting toil, and this was the end of it all ! He 
grew daily more overbearing and hard to 
please, and his ebullitions of disappointment 
and rage were terrible to witness. He vented 


✓ 


Lof G. 


100 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


his anger most frequently upon John, the sight 
of whose superb strength goaded the unhappy 
man into a frenzy, and John’s forbearance was 
tried to the utmost, but there was a sweet 
patience growing in his soul which made it pos- 
sible to endure in silence, however capricious or 
unreasonable the commands of his master might 
be, and Keginald, watching him critically, mar- 
velled at the mysterious inner strength of his 
friend. 

He came along now with his quick, light 
step and drew a chair up beside Keginald’ s 
couch. He planned his work so as to be with 
the invalid as much as possible, and his constant 
sympathy and cheer were all that made the 
days bearable to him. 

“Well, Kege, how goes it?” he asked in 
tones as tender as a woman’s. 

Keginald looked up at him with envious eyes. 
There was such a freshness about this strong 
young life, as if every moment were a separate 
joy. 

‘ ‘ I wish I was dead ! ” he answered moodily. 

“Don’t dare to wish that!” said John 
quickly, “until you have made the most of 
your life.” 

“The most of my life!” echoed Keginald 
contemptuously. “That’s well put, John, I 
must say ! What is my life worth to me now? 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


101 


You see what my father thinks of it. A use- 
less log, as valuable as a piece of waste paper. 

I believe it would have pleased him better if 
I had been killed outright. He wouldn’t have ' 
had the humiliation of it always before his 
eyes. If it had been any sort of a decent ac- 
cident, I believe I could bear it better, but to 
be knocked over in a football match, like the 
precious duffer that I am — bah!” 

The concentrated bitterness of the last words 
made J ohn ’ s heart ache. ‘ ‘ Looking backward, 
Kege,” he said quietly, ‘‘will never make a 
man of you. It is only a waste of time and 
vital tissue. But there are lots of noble lives 
in spite of limitations. Paul had his thorn in 
the flesh, you know, and Milton his blindness. 
Difficulties are a spur to the best that is in us.” 

‘ ‘ Difficulties, John. You never look at them, 
do you?” 

John laughed. “ It is not worth while ex- 
cept to see how to surmount them.” 

“ I wish you could be idle just for an hour,” 
said Keginald peevishly, “ you make me ner- 
vous. ’ ’ 

John took another stitch in the halter he 
was mending. “ Old Father Time’s spoiling 
tooth is never still, Kege. I have to work to 
keep pace with it. ’ ’ 

“ I should think you would need a month of 


102 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


loafing to made up for the sleep you have lost. 
You’re ahead of hTapoleon, John, for he only 
kept one eye open, but I’ve never been able to 
catch you napping once. How have you stood 
it, man?” 

‘‘ Forty winks is a fair allowance sometimes, 
Kege.” 

Eeginald groaned. ‘‘ Your pluck is worth a 
king’s ransom, John. I wish I had it.” 

John began to whistle softly as he drew his 
waxed ends in and out. 

“I declare, John, I can’t fathom you!” 
and Eeginald moved impatiently upon his 
couch. “ You are iu vulnerable as Achilles. I 
never saw a fellow get so much comfort out 
of everything as you do, and yet your life is a 
steady grind. What does it all mean?” 

“ It means,” said John softly, “ that I am a 
Christ’s man, and he has lifted me above the 
power of circumstances. Jesus is centre and 
circumference with me now, Eege. 

“You were talking yesterday about some 
men wanting the earth. I own the earth, be- 
cause it belongs to my Father, — the best part 
of it, you know, — there is a truer giving than 
by title deeds to material acres — and the world 
has grown very beautiful since my Father made 
me heir of all things through his Son. The 
birds’ songs have a new note in them, and the 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


103 


sunlight is brighter, and there is a different 
blue in the sky. I’m monarch of all I survey 
because I get the good out of everything, — 
mere earthly possession doesn’t amount to 
much, a man has to leave the finest estates be- 
hind him, — but I get the concentrated sweet- 
ness of it all wherever I am. It is God’s 
world, you know, and he is my Father. ’ ’ 

John was called away just then to attend to 
some gentlemen who had come to look at the 
horses, and Eeginald waited for his return in 
vain. He heard his father’s voice once, raised 
high in stormy wrath, then all was still again. 
Some time afterwards, through the leafy cur- 
tain of his veranda, he saw Mr. Hawthorne 
drive past with a face so distorted with passion 
that he shivered. 

“ There’s been no end of a row this time,” 
he soliloquized. “ It is a mystery to me why 
John puts up with it. He’s free to go when 
he chooses. I’m sure I’d clear out if I wasn’t 
such a good-for-nothing. The governor is get- 
ting to be more like a bear than a human 
being, it’s a dog’s life for everybody unlucky 
enough to be under the same roof with 
him.” 

Down at the bend of the river a tall figure 
lay stretched upon the moss. The river 


104 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


laughed and the birds sang, but John Ean- 
dolph’s face was buried in his arms. 

To leave Hollywood — that very night ! 
The place whose very stones were dear to him, 
where he had learned all he knew of home. 
To be turned off like a beggar, without a mo- 
ment’s warning, after all his years of toil ! 
To say good-bye forever to the human friends 
who loved him, and the dear, dumb friends 
whom he had fondled and tended with such 
constant care. Hever again to swing along 
through the sweet freshness of the morning be- 
fore the sun was up to find the earliest snow- 
drops for Mrs. Hawthorne, or take a spin in 
the moonlight with every nerve a-tingle across 
the frozen bosom of the lake, or wander in de- 
light along the wood roads when every tree 
was clad in the witching beauty of a silver 
thaw, or sweep across the wide stretching 
country in the very poetry of motion, or hear 
the soft swish of the tall grass as it fell in fra- 
grant rows before the mower, or the creak of 
the vans as they bore its ripened sweetness to- 
wards the great barns, while bird and bee and 
locust joined in the harmony of the Harvest 
Home, until the sun sank to rest amidst cloud 
draperies of royal purple and crimson and gold 
and the sweet-voiced twilight soothed the 
world into peace. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


105 


On and on the hours swept while John 
fought his battle. At length he rose, and with 
long, lingering glances of good-bye to every 
tree and rock and flower, began his homeward 
way. He would think of it so while he could. 
In a few short hours he would be a wanderer 
upon the face of the earth. A sudden joy 
crept into' the weary eyes. So was Jesus 
Christ! 

“"WTiy, John, what has happened!” cried 
Eeginald, as his faithful nurse came to make 
him comfortable for the night. “You look 
like a ghost, and you have had no dinner ! 
What the mischief is to pay? You must have 
been precious busy to leave me alone the whole 
afternoon. ’ ’ 

“ I have been, Kege,” said John quietly, 
“ very busy.” 

“I declare, John, I’d make tracks for free- 
dom if I were in your shoes. You’re a regu- 
lar convict* and, since you’ve had me on your 
hands, a galley slave is a gentleman of leisure 
in comparison! Why don’t you go, John? 
You’ve had nothing but injustice at Holly- 
wood. ’ ’ 

John fell on his knees beside the bed. “ I 
am going, Rege. Your father has ordered me 
away. ’ ’ 


106 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


When the thought which has floated — ^nebu- 
lous — across our mental vision, suddenly re- 
solves itself into tangible form and becomes a 
solid fact to be confronted and battled with, 
the shock is greater than if no shadowy pre- 
monition had ever haunted the dreamland of 
our fancy. Reginald gave a low cry, then he 
lay looking at John with eyes full of a blank 
horror. His mind utterly refused to grasp the 
situation. 

“You see, Rege, it is this way,” said John 
gently. “ Your father seems to have taken a 
dislike to me and lately I have fancied he was 
only waiting for an excuse to turn me off. As 
soon as those fellows began to tallc to him 
about the horses I saw there was trouble brew- 
ing. Everything I did was wrong, and once 
he swore at me. He would order me to bring 
one horse and then change his mind before I 
got half across the field, and then he would 
rail at me for not having brought the first 
one. 

“They pitched on Heptune at last, and 
asked if he had been registered. I said ‘Ho,’ 
so then they refused to pay the price your 
father asked, and he had to come down on 
him. He was furious, and, as soon as the 
men’s backs were turned, he ordered me out 
of his sight forever. He says I have ruined 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 107 

the reputation of Hollywood,” John’s voice 
broke. 

“ But, John, you mustn’t go!” cried Eegi- 
nald. ‘‘You cannot! My father is out of 
his mind. People don’t pay any attention to 
the ravings of a lunatic.” 

John shook his head sadly. “ He is master 
here, Kege. There is nothing else for me to 
do.” 

“But, John, it is impossible — ^preposterous I 
Why, everything will go to ruin without you, 
and I will take the lead.” 

“Ho, no ! ” said John quickly. “ You will 
be a rich man some day, Kege. Wealth is a 
wonderful opportunity. Prepare yourself to 
use it well. ’ ’ 

“I tell you I can’t do anything without 
you, John. I am like a ship without a rudder. 
It is no use talking. I cannot spare you. 
You must not go !” 

“ If you take the great Pilot aboard, Kege, 
you will be in no danger of drifting. It is 
only when we choose Self for our Captain that 
the ship runs on the rocks. ’ ’ 

“Don, Don!” The child heard his step 
in the hall long before he reached the door. 
He was coming, as he did every night, to give 
her a ride in his arms before she went to by-by. 


108 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


She held out her little arms from which the 
loose sleeves had fallen back. John lifted her 
up, for the last time. 

He laid his strong, set face against the rosy 
cheek, and looked into the laughing eyes which 
the sand man had already sprinkled with his 
magic powder. “JSTansie, baby, I have come 
to say good-bye.” 

“Not dood-bye, Don, oo always say dood- 
night.” 

“ But it is good-bye this time, little one, 
there will be no more good -nights for you and 
me. I am going away. ’ ’ 

A bewildered look swept over the child’s 
face. “Away!” she echoed, “ to leave Nan 
an’ Pwimwose an’ the horsies? Me’ll do too, 
Don. Me’ll do anywhere wid oo, Don.” 

“I wish I could take you!” and John 
strained her to his breast. ‘ ‘ But there is no 
Neptune to carry us now, little one. Your 
father sold him this afternoon. ’ ’ 

“My nice Nepshun!” The child’s lip 
quivered, but something in the suffering face 
above her made her say quickly, “ Me’ll be 
dood, Don, an’ when oo turn back, me’ll be 
waitin’ at de gate. ’ ’ 

She patted his cheek confidingly. “Nice 
Don ! Nan loves oo, dear, an’ Desus. Nan 
loves Desus ’cause oo do, Don.” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 109 

John’s voice choked. ‘‘Keep on loving, 
Kansie.” 

“ Yes, me will. Does Desus carry de little 
chil’en in his arms like oo do, Don? Me’s so 
comf’able. Me loves Desus.” 

The little arm, soft and warm, crept closer 
around his neck, while the golden curls swept 
his cheek. “Go’s my bootiful man, Don. 
Me’ll marry oo when me gets big,” and then, 
all unconscious of the sorrow which should 
greet her Hn the morningj^ the baby slept. 

To and fro across the floor John trod lightly 
with his precious burden. His arms never felt 
the weight. They would be such empty arms 
bye-and-bye ! Then at last he laid her down, 
and, taking a pair of scissors from his pocket, 
he carefully severed one of the golden rings of 
hair, and laid it within the folds of the hand- 
kerchief which he still carried in his vest 
popket. The fair girl and the little child. 
These should be his memory of womanhood. 

In Keginald’s room kind-hearted Mrs. Haw- 
thorne was weeping bitterly. She loved John 
as her own son, but no one ever dreamed of 
disputing the tyrannical dictates of the master 
of Hollywood, however unjust they might be. 

Keginald lay as John had left him with his 
face buried in the pillows and utterly refused 


110 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


to be comforted. What comfort could there 
be if John was going away? It never occurred 
to him that his mother needed cheer as much 
as he. Like all selfish souls his own pain com- 
pletely filled his horizon. 


CHAPTER X. 


I don’t see what we are to do about 
Evadne!” and Mrs. Hildreth sighed discon- 
solately. ‘‘ She looks like a walking shadow. 
I should not be surprised if she had inherited 
her father’s disease, and they say now that 
consumption is as contagious as diphtheria. ’ ’ 
‘‘Horrors!” cried Isabelle. “Do quaran- 
tine her somewhere, Mamma, until you are 
quite sure there is no danger. I haven’t the 
faintest aspirations to martyrdom. ’ ’ 

“It is a great care,” sighed Mrs. Hildreth. 
“All of you children have always been so 
healthy. I don’t believe Doctor Russe will 
listen to her going to the seaside, and the 
mountains are so monotonous 1 Other people’s 
children are a great responsibility.” 

Suddenly Isabelle clapped her hands. “I 
have it!” she cried. “ Send her up to Aunt 
Marthe, and then we can tease Papa to let us 
go to Newport. Marion is going to spend the 
summer with Christine Drayton, you know, and 
Papa does not intend to leave the city, so we 
can persuade him that it is our duty to seize 
111 


112 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


such a golden opportunity of doing things 
economically. I am sure I don’t know what 
people must think of us, never going to any 
of the fashionable places. For my part I think 
we owe it to Papa’s position to keep up with 
the world.” 

‘ ‘ I believe it might be managed, ’ ’ said Mrs. 
Hildreth after some consideration. “ It was 
very clever of you to think of it, Isabelle. 
You ought to be a diplomat, my dear,” and 
she smiled approvingly on her daughter. 

The train swept along through the pictur- 
esque Yermont scenery and Evadne looked out 
of her window with never ending delight. 

‘ ‘ I am like a poor, lonely bird, ’ ’ she said to 
herself, ‘‘ who flits from shore to shore, seek- 
ing rest and finding none. Another journey 
in the dark ! I wonder what will be at the 
end of this one? Well, I’ll hope for the best. 
Aunt Marthe’s letter was kind, and her name 
sounds as cheery as Aunt Kate’s sounds cold.” 

Mr. Everidge came to meet her as the train 
steamed into the little station, and Evadne soon 
found herself seated in a comfortable carriage 
behind a handsome chestnut mare, bowling 
along a fragrant country road, catching glimp- 
ses at every turn of the verdure-clad hills. 

She found her new uncle very pleasant. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


113 


There was a silver-tongued suavity about him 
in striking contrast to the growing preoccupa- 
tion of Judge Hildreth, and a sort of airy self 
complaisance which took it for granted that he 
should be well treated by the world. 

“ I am very glad you have come, my dear 
niece,” he said, ‘‘ to relieve the tedium of our 
uneventful existence. You must let our Ver- 
mont air kiss the roses into bloom again in 
your pale cheeks. It has a world- wide repu- 
tation as a tonic. I hope you left our Marl- 
borough relatives in a pleasant attitude of 
mind ? It is one of the evidences of this pro- 
gressive age that you should woo ‘ tired Na- 
ture’s sweet restorer ’ one night under the roof 
of my respected brother-in-law, the next under 
my own. The ancients, with their primitive 
modes of laborious transit, were only half 
alive. We of to-day, thanks to the melodious 
tea-kettle and inventive cerebral tissue of the 
youthful Watt, live in a perpetual hand-clasp, 
so to speak, land, by means of the flashing 
chain of light which girdles the globe are kept 
in touch with the world. It is food for reflec- 
tion that the thought which is evolved from 
the shadowy recesses of our brain to-day, 
should be, by the mysterious camera of elec- 
tricity, photographed upon the retina of the 
Australian public to-morrow, and we need to 

8 


114 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


have the archives of our memory enlarged to 
hold the voluminous correspondence of the 
century. 

“ Ah, Squire Higgins, good-evening. My 
niece by marriage. Miss Hildreth of Barba- 
does. ’ ’ 

The Squire lifted his hat, there was a little 
desultory conversation, then the carriages went 
on their separate ways, and soon Evadne found 
herself at her destination. 

She looked eagerly at the pretty house with 
its entourage of flowers and lawns, grand old 
trees and distance-purpled hills, then Aunt 
Marthe appeared in the doorway and she saw 
nothing else. 

She was of medium height with a crown of 
soft, brown hair, and eyes whose first glance of 
welcome caught Evadne’ s heart and held her 
captive. There was a wonderful sweetness 
about the smiling mouth, and the face, al- 
though not classically beautiful, possessed a 
subtle spiritual charm more fascinating than 
mere physical perfection of color and form. 
She moved lightly with a buoyant youthful- 
ness strangely at variance with the stately 
dignity of Mrs. Hildreth and the studied re- 
pose of Isabelle. 

‘‘You dear child!” The soft arms held 
her close, the sweet lips caught hers in a kiss, 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


115 


and Evadne felt with a great throb of joy that 
the weary bird had found a resting-place at 
last. 

She led her into a cool, tastefully furnished 
room, drew her down beside her on the couch 
and took off her hat and gloves, then she 
handed her a fan and went to make her a 
lemon soda. 

Evadne looked round the room with its soft 
curtains swaying in the breeze, the cool mat- 
ting on the floor with a rug or two, the light 
bookcases with their wealth of thought, the 
comfortable wicker rockers, the bamboo tables 
holding several half cut magazines, an open 
work-basket, a vase with a single rose, while 
on the low mantel a cluster of graceful lilies 
were reflected in the mirror. ‘‘ Why, this is 
home!” she cried and she laid her head 
against the cushions with a delightful sense of 
freedom. 

The early supper was soon announced and 
Evadne found herself in a cozy dining-room 
seated near a window which opened into a be- 
wildering vista of summer beauty. There were 
flowers beside each plate as well as in the 
quaintly carved bowl in the centre of the table. 
Evadne caught herself smiling. That had al- 
ways been a conceit of hers in Barbadoes. 

Everything was simple but delicious. The 


116 A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 

tender, juicy chicken, the delicate pink ham, 
the muffins browned to a turn, the Jersey but- 
ter moulded into a sheaf of wheat, and moist 
brown bread of Aunt Marthe’s own making, 
the blocks of golden sponge cake, the crisp let- 
tuce, the fragrant strawberries, the cool jelly 
frosted with snow. Evadne drank her tea out 
of a chocolate tinted cup, fluted like the bell of 
a flower, and felt as if she were feasting on 
the nectar of the gods, while Mr. Everidge’s 
silvery tones kept up a constant stream of talk 
and Aunt Marthe’s beautiful hospitality made 
her feel perfectly at home. 

“Tea, my dear Evadne,” he said, as he 
passed her cup to be refilled, “is an infusion 
of poison which is slowly but surely destroying 
the coatings of the gastronomical organ of the 
female portion of society. I tremble to think 
of the amount of tannin which analysis would 
show deposited in the systems of the votaries 
of the deadly Five o’clock, and the unhealthy 
nervous tension of the age is largely traceable 
to the excessive consumption of the pernicious 
liquid. Chocolate, on the contrary, taken as I 
always drink it, is simple and nutritive, with 
no unpleasant after effects to be apprehended, 
but this decoction of bitter herbs, steeped to 
death in water far past its proper temperature, 
is concentrated lye, my dear Evadne, nothing 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


117 


but concentrated lye. By the way, Marthe, I 
wish you would give your personal supervision 
to the preparation of my hot water in the fu- 
ture. Nothing comparable to hot water, 
Evadne, just before retiring. It aids digestion 
and induces sleep, and sleep you know is a gift' 
of the gods. The Chinese mode of punishing 
criminals has alwaj^s seemed to me exquisite in 
its barbarity. They simply make it impossible 
for the unhappy wretches to obtain a wink of 
sleep, until at length the torture grows un- 
bearable and they find refuge in the long sleep 
which no mortal has power to prevent. So, 
my dear Marthe, see to it if you please in fu- 
ture that my slumber tonic is served just on 
the boil. The worthy Joanna does not un- 
derstand the mysteries of the boiling process. 
"Water, after it has passed the initiatory stage 
becomes flat, absolutely flat and tasteless. 
What I had to drink last night was so repug- 
nant to my palate that I found it impossible to 
sink into repose with that calm attitude of mind 
which is so essential to perfect slumber. 

“ See to it also, my dear, that I am not 
disturbed at such an unearthly hour again as I 
was this morning. Tesla, the great electrician, 
has put himself on record as intimating that 
the want of sleep is a potent factor in the de- 
plorably heavy death rate of the present day. 


118 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


lie thinks sleep and longevity are synonymous, 
therefore it becomes us to bend*'every effort to 
attain that desirable consummation. ’ ’ 

Involuntarily Evadne looked at Mrs. Eve- 
ridge. Her face was slightly turned towards 
the open window and there was a half smile 
upon her lips, as if, like Joan of Arc, she was 
listening to voices of sweeter tone than those 
of earth. She came back to the present again 
on the instant and met her niece’s eyes with a 
smile, but in the subtle realm of intuition we 
learn by lightning flashes, and Evadne needed 
no further telling to know that the saddest 
loneliness which can fall to the lot of a woman 
was the fate of her aunt. 

Immediately after supper Mrs. Everidge 
persuaded Evadne to go to her room. The 
long journey had been a great strain upon her 
strength and she was very tired. 

“ I wish you a good night. Uncle Horace,” 
she said as she passed him in the doorway. 

‘‘And you a pleasant one,” he rejoined 
with a gallant bow. “ ‘ We are such stuff as 
dreams are made of — and our little life is 
rounded with a sleep. ’ ’ ’ 

She lay for a long time wakeful, revelling in 
the strange sense of peace which seemed to 
enfold her, while the evening breeze blew 
through the room and the twilight threw weird 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


119 


shadows among the dainty draperies. At 
length there came a low knock and Mrs. Eve- 
ridge opened the door. 

Evadne stretched out her hands impulsively. 
‘‘ Oh, this beautiful stillness!” she exclaimed. 
‘ ‘ In Marlborough there is the clang of the car 
gongs and the rumble of cabs and the tramp 
of feet upon the pavement until it seems as if 
the weary world were never to be at rest, but 
this house is so quiet I could almost hear a pin 
drop. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Everidge smiled. “You have quick 
ears, little one. But we are quieter than usual 
to-night ; Joanna is sitting up with a sick neigh- 
bor, your uncle went to his room early, and I 
have been reading in mine.” 

She drew a low chair up beside the bed. 
“ ]^ow we must begin to get acquainted,” she 
said. 

“Dear Aunt Marthe!” cried Evadne, “I 
feel as if I had known you all my life.” 

‘ She gave her a swift caress. “You dear 
child ! Then tell me about your father.” 

Evadne looked at her gratefully. 'No one 
had ever cared to know about her father before. 
Forgetting her weariness in the absorbing 
interest of her subject, she talked on and on, 
and Mrs. Everidge with the wisdom of true 
sympathy, made no attempt to check her, know- 


120 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


ing full well that the relief of the tried heart 
was helping her more than any physical rest 
could do. 

<‘And noAV, oh, Aunt Marthe, life is so 
desperately lonely!” she said at last with a 
sobbing sigh. 

Mrs. Everidge leaned over and kissed the 
trembling lips. ‘ ‘ I think sometimes the earth- 
ly fatherhood is taken from us, dear child, 
that we may learn to know the beautiful 
Fatherliness of God. "We can never find true 
happiness until our restless hearts are folded 
close in the hush of his love. Human love — 
however lovely — does not satisfy us. Hothing 
can, — but God!” 

“ The Fatherliness of God, ’ ’ repeated Evadne. 

‘ ‘ That sounds lovely, but people do not think 
of him so. God is someone very terrible and 
far away. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ ‘ And God shall wipe away all tears from 
their eyes. ’ Does that sound as if he were far 
away, little one ? ‘ As one whom his mother 

comforteth, so will I comfort you. ’ Why, God 
is father and mother both to us, dear child. 
Can you think of anyone nearer than that?” 

Evadne caught her breath in a great gladness. 
“I believe you are his angel of consolation,” 
she said in a hushed voice. 

“ ‘ Even unto them will I give ... a place 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


121 


and a name better than of sons and daughters, ’ ’ ’ 
quoted Aunt Marthe softly. “That means a 
location and an identity. Here, sometimes, it 
seems as if we had neither the one nor the 
other. Christ follows out the same idea in his 
picture of the abiding place which is being 
prepared for you and me. Everything on 
earth is so transitory, and the human heart has 
such a hunger for something that will last. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Have you felt this too ? ’ ’ cried E vadne. ‘ ‘ I 
thought I was the only one. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Everidge laughed. “ The only one in 
all the world to puzzle over its problems ! Oh, 
yes, the older we grow, the more we find that 
the great majority have the same feelings and 
perplexities as ourselves, although some may 
not understand their thought clearly enough to 
put it into words. ’ ’ 

“What is your favorite verse in all the 
Bible? ” asked Evadne after a pause. 

Mrs. Everidge laughed again, and Evadne 
thought she had never heard a laugh at once 
so merry and so sweet. 

“You send me into a rose garden, dear 
child, and tell me to select the choicest bloom 
out of its wilderness of beauty. How can I 
when every one has a different coloring and 
a fragrance all its own? Two of my special 
favorites are in the Revelation, — ‘ To him that 


122 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


overcometh, to him will I give of the hidden 
manna, and I will give him a white stone, and 
upon the stone a new name written, which no 
one knoweth but he that receiveth it. ’ ‘ And 

they shall see his face, and his name shall be 
on their foreheads. ’ 

“ That means a possession and a belonging. 
It is the spiritual symbol which binds us to our 
heavenly lover for eternity just as the wedding 
ring is a pledge of fidelity for our earth time. 
It is only as we see it so, that we get the full 
beauty of the religion of Jesus. His church — 
the inner circle of his chosen ‘ hidden ones ’ — 
is his bride, and what can be more glorious 
than to be the bride of the King of kings? 
The dear souls who only serve him with fear 
do not get the sweetness out of it at all. How 
can they, when their lives are all duty? ‘ Per- 
fect love casteth out fear ’ and there is no duty 
about it, for when we love, it is a joy to serve 
and give. It hurts the Christ to have us con- 
tent to be simply servants when he would lift 
us up to the higher plane of friendship, when 
he has put upon us the high honor of the dear- 
est friend of all ! Earthly brides spend a vast 
deal of time and thought over their trousseau, 
so I think Christ’s bride should walk among 
men with a sweet aloofness while the spiritual 
garments are being fashioned in which she is to 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


123 


dwell with him. The Bible says a great deal 
about dressing. ‘ Let thy garments be always 
white’ — the sunshine color, the joy color — 
for bye and bye we are to walk with him 
in white, you know. Our spiritual wardrobe 
must be fitted and worn down here. It is 
a terrible mistake to put off donning the 
wedding robes until we come to the feast. 
And the wardrobe is very ample. Christ would 
have his bride luxuriously appareled. ‘ Be 
clothed with humility. ’ That is a fine, close- 
fitting suit for every day, but over it we 
are to wear the garment of praise and the warm, 
shining robe of charity. Can you fancy any- 
thing more beautiful than a life clothed in such 
garments as these? And to me the loveliest 
of all is charity. The highest praise I ever 
heard given to a woman was that ‘ she had such 
a tender way of making excuses for everybody. ’ 

‘‘ Yery fair must be the bride in the eyes of 
her royal lover, clothed in the garments which 
he has selected, — all light and joy and tender- 
ness, for, the King’s daughter is all glorious 
within.” 

“ Aunt Marthe,” said Evadne, after a long 
silence, in which they had been tasting the 
sweetness of it, “I do not need to ask if you 
know Jesus Christ?” 

The lovely face took on an added beauty. 
‘^He is my life,” she said. 


CHAPTEE XI. 

Evadne was swinging in the hammock one 
golden summer afternoon, humming soft 
snatches of her old songs while she played with 
her aunt’s pet black and tan. The sweet fresh- 
ness of her new existence was rapidly restoring 
tone to her mental system, and life no longer 
seemed a hopeless task. The days were full of 
dreamy contentment. She spent long morn- 
ings under the murmuring pines in the deep 
belt of forest which stretched for miles behind 
the house, or helped Mrs. Everidge keep the 
rooms in dainty order ; drove with her along 
the grass- bordered roads, while ears and eyes 
feasted on the symphonies of Xature and the 
ever changing beauty of the hills; or stood 
beside Joanna in a trance of delight out in the 
fragrant dairy, whose windows opened into a 
wild sweetness of fluttering leaves, and whose 
cool stone floor made a channel for a purling 
brook, watching her as with dexterous hands 
she shaped and moulded the bubbley dough or 
tossed up an omelet or made one of her deli- 
124 : 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


125 


cious cherry pies, conscious through it all of 
the sweet influence which seemed to pervade 
every corner of the house and grounds. 

“I wonder what it is about you, you dear 
Aunt Marthe?” she soliloquized, as she pulled 
Noisette’s silky ears. “ When you are away I 
cannot bear to go into the house, — everything 
seems so different, so cold and dark, — but the 
moment you come home again it is as lovely as 
ever. Concentrated light. Yes, that name 
would suit you, for light is sweet and pure and 
stimulating and precious. If all the people in the 
world were like jOMyWhat a world it would be ! ” 
She looked up as she heard footsteps ap- 
proaching, and then rose to welcome her visi- 
tor. A woman twenty years her senior, bright, 
capable, energetic, with a shrewd face and 
kindly eyes whose keen glance was quick to 
pierce the flimsy veil of humbug, and a tongue 
whose good-natured sarcasm had made more 
than one pretender feel ashamed. 

“How do?” she said briskly, as she took 
the chair Evadne offered. “I hope you’re 
feelin’ better sence you’ve cum?” 

“ Much better, thank you. I am very 
sorry my aunt is not at home. ’ ’ 

“I’m sorry likewise, though it don’t make 
as much difference as it might have done, as 
I’m callin’ a purpose to see you.” 


126 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


‘ ‘ That is very good of you, ’ ’ said Evadne 
with a laugh. There was a spicy flavor about 
this child of the mountains which she found 
refreshing. 

“It’s a bit awkward,” continued her visi- 
tor with a twinkle in her eye, “as we’ll have 
to do our own introducin’. My name’s Pen- 
elope Eiggs, Penel for brevity. What’s 
yours?” 

“ Evadne Hildreth.” 

“Evadne. That’s uncommon and pretty. 
I’m goin’ to call you so if you’re not objec- 
tionable to it. Life’s too short for handles.” 

Evadne laughed merrily. “I’m not in the 
least objectionable,” she said. 

“Ho, that’s a fact,” said her visitor after a 
moment’s kindly scrutiny. “ You’re true and 
thorough. I knew I was goin’ to like you 
when I saw you in meetin’ . ’ ’ 

Evadne flushed Avith pleasure. “ Why, that 
is a beautiful character! I only wish I de- 
served it. But I fear you are very much mis- 
taken in me, though it is very kind in you to 
think such nice things. ’ ’ 

“ Honsense, child! I don’t waste my time 
thinkin’. Let me have a good look at your 
face for half an hour and I’ll know as much 
about you as you could tell me in a week. 
Malviny Higgins has just come back from 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


127 


Bosting with her head full of sykick forces an’ 
mental affinities an’ the dear knows what else, 
but I think it’s just a cultivation of our com- 
mon senses — number, five. You can feel a 
person without touching them ; it’s in the air 
all round you ; and you don’t need much dis- 
crimination to know whether what you will 
say will hurt them or be a blessin’. The main 
thing is to put yourself in their shoes before 
you begin to talk.” 

“ Their shoes. Miss Kiggs,” laughed Evadne, 
why they might not fit.” 

“Penelope,” corrected her visitor, “Penel 
for brevity. Yes, they will too, that kind of 
shoe leather is elastic. It’s the old Bible doc- 
trine, ‘ never do anything to others that you 
wouldn’t lilce others to do to you.’ If people 
got the shoes well fitted before they let their 
tongues loose, there would be a deal less sor- 
row and heartburn in the world. ’ ’ 

“‘Love thy neighbor as thyself,’” said 
Evadne. “ I never thought of it in that way 
before.” 

“Well,” said Miss Eiggs briskly, “I’m 
dredful glad you’ve cum, Evadne. It’ll do 
Mis’ Everidge a sight of good to have you, 
though Marthe Everidge is raised above the 
need of humans as far as any mortal can be on 
this earth. With all their inventions there 


128 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


ain’t nobody discovered how to make spiritual 
photographs yet, or I would have the picture 
of her character in all the windows of the land. 
’T would do more good than miles of tracts. 
I agree with Paul that livin’ epistles make the 
best readin’ an’ it don’t seem fittin’ that she 
should be shut up in this little place where only 
a few of us have the right kind of spectacles to 
see her through. Most of the folks just allow 
it’s Mis’ Everidge’s way, and would as soon 
think of tryin’ to imitate her as a tadpole 
would a star. ’ ’ 

‘‘But we are to imitate Christ,” said 
Evadne. 

“’Course, child! But it’s dredful com- 
fortin’ to have a human life in front of us to 
show us that is possible. Lots of times when 
life looks like a long seam an’ the sewin’ pricks 
my fingers, a new light falls on this picture, 
and I sez to myself, ‘ Penel, ’ says I, ‘ look at 
Marthe Everidge. The Lord has made you 
both out of the same material. There ain’t 
no reason why she should be always gettin’ 
nearer heaven and you goin’ back to earth. 
She has difficulties and worriments, same as 
you have, but if she can make every trial 
into a new rung for the ladder on which she 
is mountin’ up to God, there ain’t no reason 
why you should make a gravestone out of 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


129 


yours to bury yourself under ; and so I start 
on with a new courage, an’ when we get to 
the end of the journey, I’ll not be the only one 
who’ll have to thank Marthe Everidge for 
showin’ the way. ’ ’ 

Evadne’s eyes shone. “You make me feel, ’ ’ 
she cried, “ as if I would rather live a beauti- 
ful life than do the most magnificent thing in 
the world ! ” 

“ That’s a safe feelin’ to tie to,” said Penel- 
ope with an approving smile ; “for character 
is the only thing we’ve got to carry with us 
when we go. ’ ’ 

“Well,” sh^ continued, “ I must be goin’. 
I did think I’d be forehanded in callin’, but 
mother’s been dredful wakeful lately, and when 
daylight comes, it don’t seem as if I had the 
ambition of a snail. She don’t like to be left 
alone for a minit, mother don’t, so it’s a bit of 
a puzzle to keep up with society.” 

She laughed cheerily as she held out her 
hand. “Well, I’m dredful pleased to have 
met you. I’ll be more than glad to have you 
come in whenever you’re down our way.” 

Evadne watched her as she walked briskly 
along the road. “ She is not Aunt Marthe,” 
she said slowly ; “I suppose Louis would call 
it a case of the solanum and the potato blossom, 
but she is one of the Lord’s plants all the same. ’ ’ 
9 


130 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


‘‘Aunt Marthe, what is culture?” she 
asked suddenly, as later in the afternoon Mrs. 
Everidge sat beside her hammock. ‘ ‘ Is Louis 
right? Is it just the veneer of education and 
travel and environment?” 

“You can hardly call that a veneer, little 
one. Real education goes very deep. Emer- 
son says ‘ nothing is so indicative of deepest 
culture as a tender consideration of the igno- 
rant.’ I think that culture, to be perfect, 
must have .its root in love. It is impossible 
that anyone filled with the love of Christ 
should ever be discourteous or lack in thought- 
fulness for the feelings of others. ’ ’ 

“Why that must be what Penelope Riggs 
meant by her ‘ elastic shoe leather, ’ ’ ’ said 
Evadne with a laugh, and then she repeated 
the conversation. 

“Oh, she has been here I I am glad. It 
will do you good to know her. She is the 
cheeriest soul, and the busiest. She always 
acts upon me as a tonic, for I know just how 
much she has had to give up and how hard her 
life has been.” 

“Why, Aunt Marthe, she says when she 
gets to heaven she will have to thank you for 
showing her the way. She thinks you are 
perfection. ’ ’ 

“‘Rot I, but Christ,’” said Aunt Marthe 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


131 


with a happy smile. She went into the house 
and returned with a book in her hand. ‘‘You 
asked what culture really was. This writer 
says ‘ Drudgery. ’ Listen while I give you a 
few snatches, then you shall have the book for 
your own. 

“‘Culture takes leisure, elegance, wide 
margins of time, a pocket-book; drudgery 
means limitations, coarseness, crowded hours, 
chronic worry, old clothes, black hands, head- 
aches. Our real and our ideal are not twins. 
Never were ! I want the books, but the clothes 
basket wants me. I love nature and figures 
are my fate. My taste is books and I farm it. 
My taste is art and I correct exercises. My 
taste is science and I measure tape. Can it be 
that this drudgery, not to be escaped, gives 
‘culture?’ Yes, culture of the prime elements 
of life, of the very fundamentals of all fine 
manhood and fine womanhood, the fundamen- 
tals that underlie all fulness and without which 
no other culture worth the winning is even 
possible. Power of attention, power of indus- 
try, promptitude in beginning work, method 
and accuracy and despatch in doing it, perse- 
verance, courage before difficulties, cheer, self- 
control and self-denial, they are worth more 
than Latin and Greek and French and German 
and music and art and painting and wax- 


132 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


flowers and travels in Europe added together. 
These last are the decorations of a man’s life, 
those other \hings are the indispensables. 
They make one’s sit-fast strength and one’s 
active momentum, — they are the solid sub- 
stance of one’s self. 

‘ How do we get them? High school and 
college can give much, but these are never on 
their programmes. All the book processes that 
we go to the schools for and commonly call 
our ‘ education ’ give no more than opportunity 
to win the indispensables of education. We must 
get them somewhat as the fields and valleys 
get their grace. Whence is it that the lines of 
river and meadow and hill and lake and shore 
conspire to-day to make the landscape beauti- 
ful? Only by long chiselings and steady 
pressures. Only by ages of glacier crush and 
grind, by scour of floods, by centuries of storm 
and sun. These rounded the hills and scooped 
the valley-curves and mellowed the soil for 
meadow-grace. It was ‘ drudgery ’ all over 
the land. Mother Hature was down on her 
knees doing her early scrubbing work ! That 
was yesterday, to-day — result of scrubbing 
work — we have the laughing landscape. 

‘ ‘ ‘ Father and mother and the ancestors before 
them have done much to bequeath those mental 
qualities to us, but that which scrubs them into 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


133 


us, the clinch which makes them actually ours 
and keeps them ours, and adds to them as the 
years go by, — that depends on our own plod 
in the rut, our drill of habit,' in a word our 
‘ drudgery. ’ It is because we have to go and 
go morning after morning, through rain, 
through shine, through toothache, headache, 
heartache to the appointed spot and do the 
appointed work, no matter what our work 
may be, because of the rut, plod, grind, 
humdrum in the work, that we get our found- 
ations. 

‘ ‘ ‘ Drudgery is the gray angel of success, for 
drudgery is the doing of one thing long after 
it ceases to be amusing, and it is ‘this one 
thing I do ’ that gathers me together from my 
chaos, that concentrates me from possibilities 
to powers and turns powers into achievements. 
The aim in life is what the backbone is in the 
body, if we have no aim we have no meaning. 
Lose us and the earth has lost nothing, no niche 
is empty, no force has ceased to play, for we 
have no aim and therefore we are still — nobody. 
Our bodies are known and answer in this world 
to such or such a name, but, as to our inner 
selves, with real and awful meaning our walk- 
ing bodies might be labelled ‘An unknown 
man sleeps here ! * 

‘ ‘ ‘ But we can be artists also in our daily task, 


134 : 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


— artists not artisans. The artist is he who 
strives to perfect his work, the artisan strives 
to get through it. If I cannot realize my ideal 
I can at least idealize my real — How? By 
trying to be perfect in it. If I am but a rain- 
drop in a shower, I will be at least a perfect 
drop. If but a leaf in a whole June, I will be 
a perfect leaf. This is the beginning of all 
Gospels, that the kingdom of heaven is at 
hand just where we are. ’ ’ ’ 

“Oh!” cried Evadne, drawing a long 
breath, “that is beautiful! I feel as if I had 
been lifted up until I touched the sky. ’ ’ 

“Marthe,” exclaimed Mr. Everidge re- 
proachfully, suddenly appearing in the door- 
way with a sock drawn over each arm, “it is 
incomprehensible to me you do not remember 
that my physical organism and darns have 
absolutely no affinity. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Everidge laughed brightly. ‘ ‘ If you 
will make holes, Horace, I must make darns, ’ ’ 
she said. 

“ Hot a natural sequence at all ! ” he retorted 
testily. “When the wear and tear of time 
becomes visible in my underwear it must be 
relegated to Keuben. ’ ’ 

“ But Beuben’s affinity for patches may be 
no stronger than your own, Uncle Horace,” 
said Evadne mischievously. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


135 


Mr. Everidge waved his sock-capped hands 
with a gesture of disdain. ‘ ‘ The lower orders, 
my dear Evadne, are incapable of those deli- 
cate perceptions which constitute the mental 
atmosphere of those of finer mould. The delft 
does not feel the blow which would shiver the 
porcelain into atoms, and Keuben’s epidermis 
is, I imagine, of such a horny consistency that 
he would walk in oblivious unconcern upon 
these elevations of needlework which are as a 
ploughshare to my sensitive nerves. It is the 
penalty one has to pay for being of finer clay 
than the common herd of men. ’ ’ 

Evadne looked at Mrs. Everidge. A deep 
flush of shame had dyed her cheeks and her 
lips were quivering. 

‘‘ Oh, Horace,” she cried, ‘‘ Keuben is such 
a faithful boy!” 

“My dear,” said her husband airily, “I 
make no aspersions against his moral charac- 
ter, but he certainly cannot be classed among 
the velvet-skinned aristocracy. By the way, 
I wish you would see in future that my under- 
garments are of a silken texture. My flesh re- 
bels at anything approaching to harshness,” 
and then he went complacently back to his 
library to weave and fashion the graceful 
phrases which flowed from his facile pen. 

“Why should he go clothed in silk and 


136 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


you in cotton!” cried Evadne, jealous for the 
rights of her friend. 

Mrs. Everidge’s eyes came back from one of 
their long journeys, “ Oh, I have learned the 
luxury of doing without,” she said lightly. 

Evadne threw her arms around her impul- 
sively. ‘‘But why, oh. Aunt Marthe, why 
should not Uncle Horace learn it too?” 

“ We do not see things through the same 
window,” she answered with a smile and a 
sigh. 


CHAPTEE XII. 


John Eandolph walked slowly through the 
soft dawning. It had been a brilliant night. 
The late moon had risen as he was bidding 
good-bye to the graceful creatures he should 
never see again, and Hollywood had been clad 
in a bewitching beauty which made it all the 
harder to say farewell. Far into the night he 
had lingered, visiting every corner of the dearly 
loved home, then at last he had turned away 
and walked steadily along the road which led 
to Marlborough. 

The sun rose in a blaze of splendor and the 
birds began to twitter. The gripsack which 
he carried grew strangely heavy, and he felt 
faint and weary. The long strain of the day 
before was beginning to tell upon him, and it 
was many hours since he had tasted food. 

A sudden turn of the road brought him in 
sight of a trig little farm, against whose red 
gate a man was leaning, leisurely enjoying the 
beauty of the morning before he began work. 
He had a pleasant face, strong and peaceful. 
137 


138 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


No one had ever known Joseph Makepeace to 
be out of temper or in a hurry. He would 
have said it was because he commenced every 
day listening to the inner voice among the 
silences of Nature. Joseph Makepeace was a 
Quaker. 

“Why, John, lad!” he cried, “thou art a 
welcome sight on this fair morning. Come in, 
come in. Breakfast will soon be ready and 
thou art in sore need of it by the look of thy 
face.” He gave John’s hand a mighty grasp 
and took his gripsack from him. 

“Why, John, hast thou walked far with 
this load? Where were all the horses of 
Hollywood? Is anything wrong, John ? I 
don’t like thy looks, lad.” 

John’s voice trembled. “ I have left Holly- 
wood, ’ ’ he said. ‘ ‘ Mr. Hawthorne has turned 
me off.” 

“Left Hollywood! You don’t mean it, 
John? Well, well, folks say Kobert Haw- 
thorne has not been right in his mind since his 
boy got hurt. I believe it now. It’s a com- 
fort that the great Master will never turn us 
off, lad. Thee’d better lie down on the lounge 
and rest thee a bit, John, while I go and tell 
mother. ’ ’ 

He entered the spotless kitchen where his 
wife was moving blithely to and fro. “ Thee 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


139 


has another ‘unawares angel’ to breakfast, 
Kuth. It’s a grand thing being on the public 
road I ’ ’ 

Kuth Makepeace laughed merrily. “An 
angel, Joseph? I hope he’s not like thy last 
one, who stole three of my best silver spoons!” 

“ So, so, thee didst promise to forget that, 
Kuth, if I replace them next time I go to Marl- 
borough.” 

“Well, so I do, except when thee does re- 
mind me. Is this a very hungry angel, 
Joseph ? Does thee think I’d better cook 
another chicken?” 

“He ought to be hungry, poor lad, but I 
doubt if he eats much. Does thee remember 
friend Kandolph, Kuth?” 

“ Of course I do. But he’s been dead 
these ten years. Thee doesn’t mean he’s come 
back to breakfast with us?” 

Her husband put his hand on her shoulder 
and shook her gently. Then he kissed her. 
“Thee is fractious this morning, Kuth. 
Friend Kandolph had a son, thee dost mind, 
whom Kobert Hawthorne took to live at Holly- 
wood. It is he whom the good Lord has sent 
to us to care for, Kuth. He’s just been turned 
adrift. ’ ’ 

“ If thee wasn’t so big I would shake thee, 
Joseph ! The idea of John Kandolph being in 


140 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


this house and thee beating round the bush 
with thine angels !” and with all her mother- 
hood shining in her eyes, Kuth Makepeace 
started for the parlor. 

In spite of the overflowing kindness with 
which he was surrounded John found the meal 
a hard one. He had been used to brealdast 
with little Han upon his knee. 

“When thee is rested we’ll have a talk, 
lad, ’ ’ said his host, as they rose from the table ; 
“but thee’d better bide with us for the sum- 
mer and not fret about the future : thee dost 
need a holiday. ’ ’ 

“ Of course thee dost, John! ” said blithe 
little Mrs. Makepeace. “I wish thee would 
bide for good.” 

Her husband laid his hand upon his shoul- 
der. “ Thou knowest, lad, there is the little 
grave out yonder. Thee should ’st have his 
place in our hearts and home. Would’ st thee 
be content to bide, John? ” 

John Randolph looked at his friends with 
shining eyes. “You have done me good for 
life!” he said, “but the world calls me, I 
must go. I mean to work my way through 
college, and be a physician, Mr. Makepeace. ’ ’ 

“So! so! Well, we mustn’t stand in the 
way, Ruth. Thee’ 11 make a good one, John. 
But how art thee going to manage it, lad? ” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


141 


‘ ‘ The Steel W orks in Marlborough pay good 
wages. I mean to get a place there if I can, 
and study in the evenings. ’ ’ 

‘‘Why, John, lad, the Steel Works shut 
down yesterday afternoon.” 

For an instant the brave spirit quailed, only 
for an instant. “ Then I must find something 
else,” he said quietly. 

“ It’s a bad season, John, and the times are 
hard.” Joseph Makepeace thought for a mo- 
ment. “There’s friend Harris up the river. 
What dost thee think, Kuth? ” 

“Why, he wants men to pile wood,” ex- 
claimed his wife. “Thee would’ st not set 
John at that! ” 

“Lincoln split rails,” said John with a 
smile, “why should not I pile them? It’s 
clean work, and honest, Mrs. Makepeace. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ He has a logging camp in the winter. 
Thee would’st have good pay then, John.” 

“But thee would’st be so lonely, John, 
amongst all those rough men I And thee did’st 
say once it was dangerous, Joseph. It’s not 
fit work for John.” 

“ I am not afraid of work, Mrs. Makepeace, 
and I can never be lonely with Jesus Christ.” 

In far Vermont Evadne was reading aloud 
from a paper she had brought from the post- 


142 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


office. The whole sum of Christian living 
is just loving.” ‘‘ Do you believe that, Aunt 
Marthe? ” 

‘‘ Surely, dear child. Love is the fulfilling 
of the law, you know. When we love God 
with our whole heart, and our neighbor as our- 
selves, there is no danger of our breaking the 
Decalogue. ‘ He who loveth knoweth God, ’ 
and ‘ to know him is life eternal. ’ ’ ’ 

‘‘Just love,” said Evadne musingly. “It 
seems so simple.” 

“Do you think so?” said Aunt Marthe 
with a smile. ‘ ‘ Yet people find it the hardest 
thing to do, as it is surely the noblest. Drum- 
mond calls it ‘ the greatest thing in the world ’ 
and you have Paul’s definition of it in Corin- 
thians. Did you ever study that to see how 
perfect love would make us? 

“‘Love suffereth long,’ that does away 
with impatience ; ‘ and is kind, ’ that makes us 
neighborly ; ‘ love envieth not, ’ that saves from 
covetousness ; ‘ vaunteth not itself, ’ that does 
away with self-conceit ; ‘ seeketh not its own, ’ 
that kills selfishness ; ‘ is not provoked, ’ that 
shows we are forgiving ; ‘ rejoiceth not in un- 
righteousness, ’ makes us love only what is 
pure ; ‘ covereth * all things, ’ that leaves no 


Marginal rendering. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


143 


room for scandal; ‘believeth all things,’ that 
does away with doubt; ‘ hopeth all things,’ 
that is the antithesis of distrust ; ‘ endureth all 
things, ’ proves that we are strong ; and then the 
beautiful summing up of the whole matter, ‘ love 
never faileth.’ If that is true of us, it can 
only be as we are filled with the spirit of the 
Christ of God, ‘ whose nature and whose name 
is love. ’ ’ ’ 

“You see such beautiful things in the 
Bible!” said Evadne despairingly, “why 
cannot I get below the surface?” 

“You will, dearie. You forget I have been 
digging nuggets from this precious mine for 
years and you have just begun to search for 
them. Would you like another drive, or do 
you feel too tired?” 

“ Not in the least. What can I do for you ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I would nice to send some of that currant 
jelly I made yesterday to old Mrs. Kiggs, if 
you are sure you would like to take it? ” 

“ As sure as sure can be, dear,” said Evadne 
with a kiss. “Where shall I find it?” 

“In the King’s corner.” 

“‘The King’s corner?’” echoed Evadne 
with a puzzled look. 

“ Oh, I forgot you did not know. I always 
give the Lord the first fruits of my cooking, 
and keep them in a special place set apart for 


144 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


his use, then, when I go to see the sick, there 
is always something ready to tempt their 
fancy. It is wonderful what a saving of time 
it is. I rarely have to make anything on pur- 
pose, — there is always something prepared.” 

She followed her niece out to the carriage, 
helped her pack the jelly safely, with one of 
her crisp loaves of fresh brown bread, bade 
her a merry farewell and went back to the 
house again singing. 

‘ ‘ Oh, Aunt Marthe ! ’ ’ cried Evadne, as she 
drove slowly under the trees, ‘‘shall I ever, 
ever learn to be like you? ” 

She found the old lady sitting by the fire 
wrapped up in a shawl, although the day was 
sultry. 

“Good-morning,” said Evadne, as she de- 
posited her parcels on the table. “ I come 
from Mrs. Everidge. She thought you would 
fancy some of her fresh brown bread and cur- 
rant jelly.” 

“Hum!” said the old lady ungraciously, 
“I hope it’s better than the last wuz. Guess 
Mis’ Everidge ain’t ez pertickler ez she used ter 
be.” 

“ Aunt Marthe!” cried Evadne indignantly. 
“ Why, everything she does is perfection!” 

“Land, child 1 There ain’t no perfecshun 
in this world. It’s all a wale, a wale o’ tears. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


145 


We’se poor, miserable critters, — warms o’ the 
dust, — that’s what we be.” 

‘ ‘ There isn’ t any worm about Aunt Marthe, ’ ’ 
cried Evadne with a laugh. ‘ ‘ I think you must 
be looking through a wrong pair of spectacles, 
Mrs. Kiggs.” 

“Land, child ! I ain’t got but the one pair, 
an’ they got broke this morning. But it ’s jest 
my luck. Everything goes agin me. ’ ’ 

“But you can get them mended,” said 
Evadne. 

“Sakes alive! There ain’t much hope o’ 
gettin’ them mended, with Penel behindhand 
on the rent, an’ the firin’ an’ the land knows 
what else. I don’t see why Penel ain’t more 
forehanded. I tell her ef I wuz ez young an’ 
ez spry ez she be, I guess I’d hev things dif- 
ferent, but, la ! that’s Penel’ s way. She’s ter- 
rible sot in her own way, Penel is. She’s not 
willin’ ter take my advice. Children now-a- 
days allers duz know more than their mothers. ’ ’ 

“ Where is Penelope? ” asked Evadne. 

“ Oh, skykin’ round. She’s gone over to 
Miss Johnsing’s ter help with the quiltin’. 
That’s the way she duz, an’ here I am all alone 
with the fire ter tend ter, an’ not a livin’ soul 
ter do a hand’s turn fer me ! She sez she hez 
ter do it ter keep the pot bilin’ — ’pears ter me 
Penel’ s pots take a sight uv bilin’. ” 

lO 


146 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


‘‘ But she has left a nice pile of wood close 
beside you, Mrs. Kiggs. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ La, yes, ’ ’ grumbled the old lady, ‘ ^ but 
it’s dretful thoughtless in her ter stay away so 
long, when she knows the stoopin’ cums so hard 
on my rheumatiz. An’ it’s terrible lonesome. 
I get that narvous some days I’m all of a shake. 
’Tain’t ez ef she kep within’ call, but t’other 
day she went clean over ter Hancocks, — a hull 
mile an’ a half ! She sez she hez ter go where 
folks wants things done, but that’s nonsense, 
folks oughter want things done near at hand, 
— they know how lonesome I be. Why, a bear 
might cum in an’ eat me up fer all Penel would 
know. She gits so taken up a’ larfin’ an’ 
singin’, she ain’t got no sympathy. Oh, it’s 
a wale o’ tears!” 

“But there are no bears in Yemon, Mrs. 
Biggs,” laughed Evadne. 

‘ ‘ Land, child ! you never know what there 
might be!” said the old lady testily. “Be 
you a’ stayin’ at Mis’ Everidge’s ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Evadne, “ she is my aunt.” 

‘ ‘ Hum ! I never knew she hed any nieces, 
’cept them two gals uv Jedge Hildreth’s down 
ter Marlborough. ’ ’ 

“ I am their cousin, Mrs. Biggs. I used to 
live in Barbadoes.” 

‘ ‘ W ell, I declar ! Why, Barbaderz is t’ other 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


147 


side of nowhere ! Used ter be when I went ter 
school. Well, well, some folks hez a lion’s 
share uv soarin’ an’ here I’ve ben all my life 
jest a’ pinin’ my heart out ter git down ter 
Bosting, an’ I ain’t never got there! But 
that’s allers the way. I never git nuthin’. I’m 
sixty-nine years old cum Christmas an’ I ain’t 
never ben further away frum hum than twenty 
miles hand runnin’, an’ here’s a chit like you 
done travelin’ enuff ter last a lifetime. ’ ’ 

“ But I didn’t want to travel, Mrs. Kiggs,” 
said Evadne gently. ‘ ‘ I would so much rather 
have stayed at home. ’ ’ 

‘‘There you go!” grumbled the old lady. 
“ Eolks ain’t never satisfied with their mercies. 
Allers a’ flyin’ in the face uv Providence. I 
tell you we’se wurms, child; miserable, shift- 
less wurms, a’ crawlin’ down in this walley of 
humiliation, with our faces ter the dust. ’ ’ 

“ But you’ve got a great deal to be thankful 
for, Mrs. Kiggs,” ventured Evadne, “ in hav- 
ing such a daughter. Aunt Marthe thinks she 
is a splendid character.” 

“ So she oughter be!” retorted the old lady, 
“ with sech a bringin’ up ez she’s hed. But 
land ! childern’s dretful disappointin’ ter a pus- 
son. There ain’t a selfish bone in my body, 
but Penel’s ez full uv ’em. She’ll let me lie 
awake by the hour at a time while she’s a’ 


148 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


snoozin’ on the sofy beside me. She don’t 
sleep in her own bed any more because I hev 
ter hev her handy ter rub me when the rheu- 
matiz gits ter jumpin’. She sez she can’t help 
bein’ drowsy when she’s workin’ through the 
day, but land ! she’d manage ter keep awake 
ef she hed any sympathy! She ain’t got no 
sympathy, Penel ain’t; an’ she ain’t a bit 
forehanded. 

‘ ‘ But I don’t ’spect nuthin’ else in this world. 
It’s a wsile o’ tears an’ we ain’t got nuthin’ 
else ter look fer but triberlation an’ woe. Man 
ez born ter trouble ez the sparks fly upward, 
an’ a woman allers hez the lion’s share.” 

Evadne burst into the sitting-room with 
flashing eyes. “Aunt Marthe, if I were Penel- 
ope Piggs, I would shoot her mother! She’s 
just a crooked old bundle of unreasonableness 
and ingratitude ! ’ ’ 

Mrs. Everidge laughed. ‘ ‘ No, you wouldn’t 
dear, not if you were Penelope. ’ ’ 

“But, Aunt Marthe, how does she stand it? 
Why, it would drive me crazy in a week ! To 
think of that poor soul, working lilie a slave all 
day, and then grudged the few winks of sleep 
she gets on a hard old sofa. I declare, it makes 
me feel hopeless !” 

“ The day I climbed Mont Blanc, ” said Mrs. 
Everidge softly, “we had a wonderful expe- 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


149 


rience. Down below us a sudden storm swept 
the valley. The rain fell in torrents, and the 
thunder roared, but up where we stood the sun 
was shining and all was still. When we walk 
with Christ, little one, we find it possible to 
live above the clouds.” 

“An Alpine Christian!” cried Evadne. 
“ Oh, Aunt Marthe, that is beautiful 1” 


CHAPTEE XIIL 


‘‘The ancient Egyptians, Evadne,” re- 
marked Mr. Everidge the next day at dinner, 
as he selected the choicest portions of a fine 
roast duck for his own consumption, ‘ ‘ during 
the period of their nation’s highest civilization, 
subsisted almost exclusively upon millet, dates 
and other fruits and cereals; and athletic 
Greece rose to her greatest culture upon two 
meals a day, consisting principally of maize and 
vegetables steeped in oil. Don’t you think 
you ladies would find it of advantage to copy 
them in this laudable abstemiousness? There 
is something repugnant to a refined taste in the 
idea of eating flesh whose constituent particles 
partake largely of the nature of our own.” 

“Why, certainly. Uncle Horace,” said 
Evadne merrily. “I am quite ready to be- 
come a vegetarian, if you will set me the ex- 
ample. The feminine mind, you know, is 
popularly supposed to be only fitted to follow 
a masculine lead.” 


150 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


151 


“Ah, I wish it were possible, my dear 
Evadne, but the peculiar susceptibility of my 
internal organism precludes all thought of my 
making such a radical change in the matter of 
diet. Even now, in spite of all my care, in- 
digestion, like a grim Argus, stares me out of 
countenance. I wish you would bear this fact 
more constantly in mind, my dear Marthe. 
This duck, for instance, has not arrived at that 
stage of absolute fitness which is so essential to 
the appreciation of a delicate stomach. A 
duck, Evadne, is a bird which requires very 
careful treatment in its preparation for the 
table. It should be suspended in the air for a 
certain length of time, and then, after being 
carefully trussed, laid upon its breast in the 
pan, in order that all the juices of the body 
may concentrate in that titbit of the epicure, 
— then let the knife touch its richly browned 
skin, and, presto, you have a dish fit for the 
gods ! The skin of this duck on the contrary 
presents a degree of resistance to the carver 
which proves that it has been placed in the 
oven before it had arrived at that stage of per- 
fection. ’ ’ 

“Why, Horace,” laughed Mrs. Everidge, 
“ I thought this one was just right ! You re- 
member you told me the last one we had, had 
hung five hours too long.” 


152 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


‘‘ Exactly so. My friend, Trenton, will tell 
you that five hours is all the length of time 
required to seal the fate of nations. It is a pet 
theory of his that the finale of the material 
world will be rapid. He bases his conclusions 
upon the fact of the steady decrease in the 
volume of the surrounding atmosphere and the 
almost instantaneous action of all of Nature’s 
destructive forces, fire and flood, storm and 
sunstroke, lightning and hail, earthquake and 
cyclone. Oh, apropos of my erudite friend, 
Marthe, he has promised to spend August with 
us, so you will have to look to your culinary 
laurels, for he is accustomed to dine at Del- 
monico’s.” 

“Professor Trenton coming here in Au- 
gust ! ’ ’ cried Mrs. Everidge in dismay. 

‘ ‘ Why, Horace, you never told me you had 
invited him ! ’ ’ 

“ My dear, I am telling you now.” 

‘ ‘ But I meant to take Evadne up to our 
mountain camp in August. I am sure the 
resinous air would make her strong. I had 
my plans all laid. ’ ’ 

“ ‘ The best laid plans of mice and men 
gang aft agley,’ ” said her husband suavely. 
“ Evadne ’s mental strength cannot fail to be 
developed by intercourse with such a clever 
man. We must not allow the culture of the 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


163 


body to occupy so prominent a place in our 
thoughts that we forget the mind, you know.” 

“A fusty old Professor! ” pouted Evadne. 
“Oh, Uncle Horace, why didn’t you leave 
him among his tomes and his theories and let 
us be free to enjoy?” 

“ Mere sensual gratification, Evadne,” said 
Mr. Everidge, as he replenished his plate with 
some dainty pickings, ‘ ‘ is not the true aim of 
life. I consider it a high honor that the Pro- 
fessor should consent to devote a month of 
his valuable time to my edification, for he is 
getting to be quite a lion in the literary world. 
You had better have your chamber prepared 
for his occupancy, Marthe. As I remember 
him at college he had a fondness amounting 
almost to a craze for rooms with a western 
aspect. ’ ’ 

Joanna came in to announce the arrival of a 
visitor whom Evadne had already learned to 
dread on account of her continual depression. 

“Oh, Aunt Marthe!” she exclaimed, 
“must you waste this beautiful afternoon 
listening to her dolorosities. I wanted you to 
go for a drive ! ’ ’ 

“You go, dearie, and take Penelope Eiggs. 
It will be a treat to her and you ought to be 
out in the open air as much as possible. ’ ’ 

Evadne went out on the veranda. Through 


154 'A be A UTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 

the open window she could hear the visitor’s 
ceaseless monotone of complaint mingled with 
the soft notes of Mrs. Everidge’s cheery sym- 
pathy. ‘‘Oh, dearest,” she murmured, “if 
you had seen this beautiful life, you would 
have known that there is no sham in the re- 
ligion of Jesus! ” 

She waited long, in the hope that Mrs. 
Everidge would be able to accompany her, 
then she started for the Eiggs cottage. She 
found the old lady alone. “Where is Penel- 
ope, Mrs. Kiggs?” 

‘ ‘ Oh, sky kin’ round ez usual, ’ ’ was the 
peevish response. “It’s church work this* 
time. When I wuz young, folks got along 
’thout sech an everlastin’ sight uv meetins, but 
nowadays there’s Convenshuns, an’ Auxils an’ 
Committees, an’ the land knows what, till a 
body’s clean distracted. Per my part I hate 
ter see wimmen a’ wallerin’ round in the mud 
till it takes ’em the best part uv the next day 
ter git their skirts clean.” 

“But there is no mud now, Mrs. Eiggs,” 
laughed Evadne. 

“Land alive, child! There will be some- 
time. In my day folks used ter stay ter hum 
an’ mind their childern, but now they’ve all 
took ter soarin’ an’ it don’t matter how many 
ends they leave fly in’ loose behind ’em.” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 155 

But Penelope has no children to mind, 
Mrs. Biggs.” 

“Land alive! She hez me, an’ I oughter 
be more ter her than a duzzen childern, — but 
she ain’t got no proper feelin’s, Penel ain’t. 
When I’m a’ lyin’ in my coffin she’ll give 
her eyes ter hev the chance ter rub my 
rheumatiz, an’ run fer hot bottles an’ flan- 
nels an’ ginger tea. It’s an ongrateful world 
but I allers sez there ain’t no use complain- 
in’ ; it’s what we’ve got ter expec’, — triber- 
lation an’ anguish an’ mournin’ an’ woe. It’s 
good enuff fer us too. Sech wurms ez we 
be! ” 

“Well, Evadne, how do you do, child? 
I’m dretful glad to see you,” and Penelope, 
breezy and keen as a March wind, came bus- 
tling into the room. “Why, yes, I’m well, 
child, if it wasn’t for bein’ so tumbled about in 
my mind. ’ ’ 

“ What has tumbled you, Penelope?” asked 
Evadne with a merry laugh. 

“ The Scribes and Pharisees,” was the terse 
rejoinder. “I’ve just cum from a Committee 
meeting of the Missionary Society an’ I’m free 
to confess my feelin’s is roused tremendous. 
Seems to me nowadays the church is built at a 
different angle from the Sermon on the Mount, 
an’ things is measured by the world’s yard- 


156 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


sticks till there ain’t much sense in callin’ it a 
church at all. Ef you'd seen the way Squire 
Higgins’ girls sot down on poor little Matildy 
Jones this afternoon, just because her father 
sells fish ! Their father sells it too, but he’s 
got forehanded an’ can do it by the gross, an’ 
so they toss their heads an’ set a whole garden 
full o’ fiowers a’ shakin’ up an’ down. They’re 
allers more peacocky in their minds after they 
git their spring bunnets. The Lord said we 
was to consider the lilies, but I guess he meant 
us to leave ’em in the fields, for I notice the 
more folks carries on the tops of their heads 
the less their apt to be like ’em underneath.” 

‘‘But what did they say to her?” asked 
Evadne. 

“You’re young, child, or you’d know there’s 
more ways of insultin’ than with the tongue, 
an’ poor little Matildy is jest the one to be 
hurt that w'ay. Some folks is like clams, the 
minute you touch ’em, they shut themselves 
up in their shells an’ then they don’t feel what 
you do to ’em any more’n the Kocky moun- 
tains, but Matildy isn’t made that way. She 
just sot there with the flushes cornin’ in her 
cheeks an’ the tears shinin’ in her pretty eyes 
till my heart ached. I leaned over to her an’ 
whispered, ‘Don’t fret, Matildy, they ain’t 
wuth mindin’. She gave me a little wintry 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 157 

smile but the tears kep a’ cornin’ an’ by an’ 
bye she got up and went out, an’ ef she don’t 
imitate the Prophet Jeremi an’ water her piller 
with her tears this night, then I’ve changed 
my name sence mornin’. 

‘‘I was so uplifted in my mind with right- 
eous indignation that I felt called upon to let 
it loose, so I begun in a musin’ tone, as ef I 
was havin’ a solil. ’ ’ 

“ ‘ A solil?’ ” said Evadne in a mystified 
tone. 

‘ ‘ Why, yes ; talkin’ to myself, child. I did 
think, ef there was any place folks- was free 
an’ eqal ’twould be in the Lord’s service,’ sez 
I. ‘ The Bible teaches it’s a pretty dangerous 
bizness to offend one uv these little ones. I’m 
not much of a hand at quotations, but there’s 
an unpleasant connection between it an’ a mill- 
stun, ’ sez I. 

“Malviny Higgins tossed her head an’ giv 
me one uv her witherinest looks, but I’m not 
one uv the perishin’ kind, so I kep on a’ 
musin’. 

‘“It’s wonderful what a difference there is 
between sellin’ by the poun’ an’ the barrel,’ 
sez I. ‘ It’s unfortunet that there’s only one 
way to the heavenly country, an’ it’s a limited 
express with no Pullman attached. The Lord 
hedn’ttime to put on a parlor car fer the whole- 


158 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


sale trade; seems like as if it was kind uv 
neglectful in him. It would hev been more 
convenient an’ private. ’ 

“Malviny’s cheeks got as red as beets an’ 
the flowers on her bonnet danced a Highland 
Fling as she leaned over to whisper somethin’ 
to her sister, but I hed relieved my feelin’s an’ 
could join in quite peaceful like when Mrs. 
Songster said we’d close the meetin’ by singin’ 
‘Blest be the tie that binds.’ Well, there’ll 
be no clicks in heaven, that’s one blessin’.” 

“ ‘Clicks,’ Penelope?” 

“ Why, yes, child, the folks that gets off by 
themselves in a corner an’ thinks nobody out- 
side the circle is fit to tie their shoe. I ex- 
pect to hev edifyin’ conversations with Moses 
an’ Elija, an’ the first thing I mean to ask him 
is what kind of ravens they really were. ’ ’ 
“‘Kavens,’” echoed Evadne bewildered, 
“ what do you mean, Penelope?” 

“ Sakes alive, child! Haven’t you read 
your Bible? and don’t you know the ravens 
fed the old gentleman in the desert, an’ that 
folks now say they were Arabs, because the 
ravens are dirty birds an’ live on carrion, an’ 
it stands to reason Elija couldn’t touch that if 
he hed an ordinary stumach. As if the Lord 
couldn’t hev made ’em bring food from the 
king’s table if he hed chosen to do it I It’s all 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, I59 

of a piece with the way folks hev now of 
twistin’ the Bible inside out till nobody knows 
what it means. For my part I believe if the 
Lord hed meant Arabs he would hev said Arabs 
an’ not hev deceived us by callin’ ’em birds uv 
prey. Folks is so set against allowin’ anything 
that looks like a meracle that they’ll go all 
the way round the barn an’ creep through a 
snake fence if they can prove it’s jest an ordi- 
nary piece of business. They do say there are 
some things the Lord can’t do, but I’m free to 
confess I’ve never found them out.” 

‘‘Aunt Marthe,” said Evadne, when they 
had settled down for their evening talk, ‘ ‘ what 
does it all mean? ‘ The victory of our faith,’ 
you know, and the ‘ Overcomeths ’ in Eevela- 
tion? I thought Christ got the victory for 
us?” 

“So he does, dear child, and we through 
him. I came across a lovely explanation of it 
some time ago which I will copy for you ; it 
has been such an inspiration. Listen, — 

“ ‘ When you are forgotten or neglected or 
purposely set at naught and you smile inwardly, 
glorying in the insult or the oversight, — that 
is victory. 

‘ ‘ ‘ When your good is evil spoken of, when 
your wishes are crossed, your tastes offended. 


160 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


your advice disregarded, your opinions ridi- 
culed, and you take it all in patient and loving 
silence, — that is victory. 

“‘When you are content with any food, 
any raiment, any climate, any society, any 
position in life, any solitude, any interruption, 
— that is victory. 

“‘When you can bear with any discord, 
any annoyance, any irregularity or unpunctu- 
ality (of which you are not the cause), — that 
is victory. 

‘ ‘ ‘ When you can stand face to face with 
folly, extravagance, spiritual insensibility, 
contradiction of sinners, persecution, and en- 
dure it all as Jesus endured it, — that is vic- 
tory. 

“ ‘ When you never care to refer to yourself 
in conversation, nor to record your works, nor 
to seek after commendation; when you can 
truly love to be unknown, — that is victory.’ ” 

“Kow I see!” exclaimed Evadne. “It 
means the beautiful patience with which you 
bear aggravating things and the gentle cour- 
tesy with which you treat all sorts of trouble- 
some people. Oh, my Princess, I envy you 
your altitude ! ’ ’ 


CHAPTEE XIY. 


Professor Trenton had come and gone and 
the glory of the autumn was over the land. 
The early supper was ended and Evadne had 
ensconced herself in her favorite window to 
catch the sun’s last smile before he fell asleep. 
In the room across the hall Mr. Everidge re- 
clined in his luxurious arm-chair and leisurely 
turned the pages of the last ‘‘North American 
Eeview.” It was Saturday evening. 

“Why, Horace, can this he possible?” 
Mrs. Everidge entered the room quickly and 
stood before her husband. Neither of them 
noticed Evadne. 

“ My dear, many things are possible in this 
terrestrial sphere. What particular possibility 
do you refer to?” 

‘ ‘ That you have discharged Eeuben ? ’ ’ The 
sweet voice trembled. Mr. Everidge’ s tones 
kept their usual complacent calm. 

“ That possibility, my dear, has taken defi- 
nite form in fact. ’ ’ 

“ But, Horace, the boy is heart-broken.” 

II 161 


162 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


‘‘Time is a mighty healer, my love. He 
will recover his mental equipoise in due 
course. ’ ’ 

“But you might have given him a month’s 
warning. Where is the poor boy to find an- 
other place? It is cruel to turn him ofi like 
this ! ’ ’ 

“ Eeally, my dear Marthe, I do not feel my- 
self competent to solve all the problems of the 
labor question, ’ ’ said Mr. Everidge carelessly. 

‘ ‘ Keuben must take his chances in common 
with the rest of his class. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ But, Horace, I cannot imagine what your 
reason for this can be ! Where will you find 
so good a boy?” 

‘ ‘ I am not aware that Socrates thought it 
necessary to acquaint the worthy Xantippe 
with the reasons for his conduct,” remarked 
Mr. Everidge suavely. “ The feminine mind 
is too much disposed to jump to hasty conclu- 
sions to prove of any assistance in deciding 
matters of importance. The masculine brain, 
on the contrary, takes time for calm deliber- 
ation and weighs the pros and cons in the scale 
of a well balanced judgment before arriving at 
any definite decision. But my reason in this 
case will soon become apparent to you. I do 
not intend to keep a boy at all.” 

“ But who will take care of Atalanta? Are 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


163 


you going to forsake your cherished books for 
a curry-comb?” 

‘ ‘ Keally , Marthe ! ’ ’ exclaimed her husband 
in an aggrieved tone, “it is incomprehensible 
that you should have such a total disregard for 
the delicacy of my constitution, — especially 
when you know that the very odor of the stable 
is abhorrent to my olfactory senses. Atalanta 
has quarters provided for her at the Yernon 
Livery, and one of the grooms has orders to 
bring the carriage to the door at two o’clock 
every afternoon. ” 

‘ ‘ But that will make it very awkward, 
Horace. I so often have to use the carriage 
in the morning. ’ ’ 

“ ‘ Have,’ my dear Marthe, is a word which 
admits of many substitutions, — ‘ cannot ’ in 
this case will be a suitable one. I find it is 
necessary to resume possession of the reins. 
Atalanta is retrograding and is rapidly losing 
that characteristic of speed which made her 
name a fitting one. There is a lack of mastery 
about a woman’s handling of the ribbons which 
is quickly detected by horses, especially when 
they are of more than average intelligence. ’ ’ 

“But, Horace, if Keuben goes, Joanna will 
go too. You know she promised her mother 
she would never leave him.” 

“ In that event, my dear, you wiU have an 


164 : A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 

opportunity to become more intimately ac- 
quainted with the mysteries of the culinary 
art,” observed Mr. Everidge cheerfully. “ It 
will be a splendid chance to evolve that finest 
of character combinations, Spartan endurance 
coupled with American progressiveness. ’ ’ 

Mrs. Everidge smiled. ‘ ‘ But what if I do 
not have the Spartan strength, Horace?” 

“That is merely a matter of imagination, 
my love. It proves the truth of my theory 
that necessity develops capacity. A woman 
of leisure, for want of suitable mental pabulum, 
grows to fancy she has every ill that flesh is 
heir to, whereas, when she is obliged by com- 
pelling circumstances to put her muscles into 
practice, her mind acquires a more healthy 
tone. Self-contemplation is a most enervating 
exercise and involves a tremendous drain on 
the moral forces. ’ ’ 

“ Do you think I waste much time in that 
way, Horace?” Mrs. Everidge spoke wist- 
fully, and Evadne, forced to be an unwilling 
listener to the conversation, felt her cheeks 
grow hot with indignation. 

‘ ‘ My dear, I merely refer to the deplorable 
tendency of your sex. All you require is 
moral stamina to tear yourself away from the 
arms of Morpheus at an earlier hour in the 
morning. It is a popular illusion, you know, 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


165 


that work performed before sunrise takes less 
time to accomplish and is better done than 
later in the day. My mother used to afSrm that 
she accomplished the work of two days in one 
when she arose at three a.m. , but then my moth- 
er was a most exceptional woman, ’ ’ with which 
parting thrust Mr. Everidge retired behind the 
pages of his magazine. 

Upstairs in her own room Evadne paced the 
floor with tightly clenched hands. “Oh!’’ 
she cried, “ what shall I do? I hate him! I 
hate him! How dare he! He ought to be 
glad to go down on his knees to serve her, she 
is so sweet, so dear! Oh, I cannot bear it! 
That she should be compelled to endure such 
servitude, and I can do nothing to help, noth- 
ing ! nothing ! ’ ’ She threw herself across the 
bed and burst into a passion of tears. Was 
this the silent girl whom Isabelle had voted 
tiresome and slow? 

A little later than usual she heard the low 
knock which always preceded the visit which 
she looked forward to as the sweetest part of 
the day. Could it be possible she would come 
to-night? Was no thought of self ever per- 
mitted to enter that brave, suffering heart? 

She rose and opened the door. The dear 
face was paler than usual but there was no 
shadow upon the smooth brow. Marthe Ev- 


166 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


eridge had crossed the tempest-tossed ocean of 
human passion into the sun-kissed calm of 
Christ’s perfect peace. 

Evadne threw her arms around her neck and 
laid her storm-swept face upon her shoulder. 
‘‘Forgive me!” she cried, “I heard it all. I 
could not help it. I think my heart is breaking. 
Do not be angry, you see I love you so ! How 
can I bear to have you subjected to this? You 
are so tender, so true. There is such a charm 
about you 1 You are so beautifully unselfish ! 
Oh, my dear, my dear, how can you, do you 
bear it?” 

Mrs. Everidge lifted her face tenderly and 
kissed the quivering lips. “ It is ‘ not I but 
Christ,’ dear child. That makes it possible.” 
Then she drew her over to the lounge and be- 
gan to undress her as if she had been a baby. 
“My dear little sister. You are utterly ex- 
hausted. You are not strong enough to suffer 
so.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, will you let me be your sister and 
help you bear your burdens?” cried Evadne, 
unconscious that all the time the skilful hands 
were keeping up their sweet ministry and that 
her burden was being lifted for her by the one 
who had the greater burden to bear. 

When she was comfortably settled for the 
night Mrs. Everidge drew her low chair up 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


167 


beside the bed. Evadne caught her hand in 
hers and kissed it reverently. “ I wish I could 
make you understand how I honor you ! ’ ’ she 
said. 

“You must not do it, dear!” said Aunt 
Marthe quickly. ‘ ‘ Honor the King. ’ ’ 

After a pause she began to speak slowly and 
her voice was sweet and low. “When, the 
first night you came, you asked me if I knew 
J esus Christ, I told you he was my life. That 
explains it all. It is very sweet of you to say 
the kind things that you have about me but 
they are not true. In and of herself, Marthe 
Everidge is nothing. The moment she tries to 
live her own life she utterly fails. If there is 
anything good about her life, it is only as she 
lets Christ live it for her. ’ ’ 

“ I do not understand,” said Evadne with a 
puzzled look. “How is it possible for any 
one else to live our lives for us?” 

“ No one can but Jesus,” said Aunt Marthe 
with a smile. “ He does the impossible. Take 
that exquisite fifteenth chapter of St. John and 
study it verse by verse. ‘ Abide in me, and I 
in you.’ There you have the two abidings. 
We are in Christ when we believe in him and 
are accepted through the merit of his blood and 
brought by adoption into the family of God, 
but not until he abides in our hearts shall our 


168 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


lives become as beautiful as God means them 
to be. Fruitfulness, — ^that is the cry every- 
where. Men are calling for intellectual fruit- 
fulness and mechanical fruitfulness, and are 
bending their energies to find the soil which 
will develop at once the best quality and great- 
est amount of fruit. Take a tree, to make my 
meaning clearer. The tree may abide in the 
soil and be just alive, but it is not until the 
essence of the soil enters into and abides in the 
tree, that it really grows and bears fruit. 
Growers of the finest varieties will show you 
plums that look as if they had been frosted 
with silver, and peaches with cheeks like the 
first blush of dawn. The ‘ fruits of the Spirit, ’ 
have a wondrous bloom and an exquisite fra- 
grance. ’ ’ 

“‘Love, joy, peace,’” Evadne repeated 
slowly, “ ‘long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, 
faith.’ ” But those belong to the Spirit, Aunt 
Marthe. ’ ’ 

“Yes, dear child, the Spirit of Jesus. The 
Spirit whom he sent to comfort his people when 
he took his bodily presence from the earth. 
The holy, indwelling presence which is to re- 
veal the Christ to us and prepare us for the 
abiding of the Father and the Son. It is the 
beautiful mystery of the Trinity.” 

“ But we cannot have the Trinity abiding 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 169 

• 

in our hearts ! ’ ’ said Evadne in an awestruck 
voice. 

‘ ‘ The Bible teaches us so. ’ ’ 

“Not God, Aunt Marthe!” 

“Jesus is God, little one. He said to the 
Jews, ‘I and my Father are one.’ He says 
plainly, ‘ If any man love me, he will keep my 
word and my Father will love him, and we 
will come unto him and make our abode with 
him,’ and in another place we are told to be 
filled with the Spirit. It is three persons but 
three in one.” 

“ I do not understand. Aunt Marthe.” 

“No, dear, we never shall, down here. 
Thomas wanted to do that and Christ said 
‘ Blessed are they that have not seen and yet 
have believed. ’ The Spirit is continually giv- 
ing us deeper insight into the love of the Son, 
just as the Son came to make known to the 
world the wonderful love of the Father. ’ ’ 
“But ‘be filled,’” said Evadne. “That 
looks as if we had something to do with it. ’ ’ 
“ So we have, dear child. Suppose a man 
OAvned one hundred acres of land and gave you 
the right of way through it from one public 
road to another, — that would leave him many 
acres for his own use on which you have no 
right to trespass. I think we treat Jesus so. 
We are willing that he should have the right 


170 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


of way through our hearts, but we forget that 
every acre must be the King’s property. There 
must be no rights reserved, no fenced corners. 
Jesus must be an absolute monarch.” 

Mrs. Everidge spoke the last words softly 
and Evadne, looking at her uplifted face, shin- 
ing now with the radiance which always filled 
it when she spoke of her Lord, saw again that 
glowing face which she had watched across 
the gate at Hollywood and heard the strange, 
exultant tones, ‘ He is my King ! ’ Ah, that 
was beautiful ! That was what Aunt Marthe 
meant, and Pompey and Dyce. 

‘‘ Jesus must come to abide, not merely as a 
transient guest,” Aunt Marthe continued in 
her low tones. “We must give him full con- 
trol of our thought and will. We must hand 
him the keys of the citadel. We must give 
the all for the all, — that is only fair dealing. 
You see, dear child, Christ cannot fill us until 
we are willing to be emptied of self. He must 
have undivided possession. There is a vast 
amount of heartache, little one, in this old 
world, and self is at the bottom of it all, when 
we stop to analyze it. We want to be first, to 
be thought much of, to be loved best. Ko 
wonder that the selfless life seems impossible 
to most people. Think what a continuous self- 
sacrifice Christ’s life was! So utterly alone 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


171 


and lonel}^ among such uncongenial surround- 
ings with people uncouth and totally foreign 
to his tastes. Ah ! we don’t realize it. We 
look at him doing the splendid things amidst 
the plaudits of the multitude, but think of the 
monotonous, weary days, going up and down 
the sun-baked streets surrounded by a crowd 
of noisy beggars full of all sorts of loathsome 
disease, and the humdrum life in Nazareth; 
and all the time the great heart aching with 
that ceaseless sorrow, — ‘ His own received him 
not ! ’ Oh, what a waste of love ! We do not 
realize that it is in these footsteps of his that 
we are called to follow. We are willing to do 
the great things, with the world looking on, 
but not for the loneliness and the pain! It 
seems a strange antithesis that Paul should 
count that as his highest glory, and yet how 
comparatively few seem counted worthy to en- 
ter with Christ into the shadow of that mys- 
terious Gethsemane which lasted all his life. 

‘ The fellowship of his sufferings. ’ It must 
surely mean the privilege of getting very near 
his heart, just as human hearts grow closer in 
a common sorrow, — knit by pain. Yes, dear 
child, self must die : and it is a cruel death, — 
the death of the cross. But then comes the 
newness of life with its strange, sweet joy 
which the world’s children do not know the taste 


172 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


of. How can they when it is ‘ the*joy of the 
Lord,’ and they reject him?” 

‘‘You talk of the cross, Aunt Marthe, and 
other people talk of crosses. Aunt Kate and 
Isabelle are always talking about the sacrifices 
they have to make, and Mrs. Kivers carries a 
perfect bundle of crosses on her back. She is 
wealthy and has everything she wants, and yet 
she is always wailing, while Dyce is as happy 
as the day is long. Do the poor Christians 
always do the singing while the rich ones 
sigh?” 

Mrs. Everidge smiled.* “ YTe make our 
crosses, dear child, when we put our wishes at 
right angles to God’s will. When we only 
care to please him everything that he chooses 
for us seems just right. I have heard people 
speak as if it were a cross to mention the name 
of Christ. How could it be if they loved him? 
Do you find it a cross to talk to me about your 
father? People make a terrible mistake about 
this. The only cross we are commanded to 
carry is the cross of Christ. ’ ’ 

‘‘ And what is that. Aunt Marthe?” 

“Self renunciation,” said Aunt Marthe 
softly, ‘ ‘ the secret of peace. 

‘ ‘ Among all the pictures of the Madonna, ’ ’ 
she continued after a pause, “the one I like 
best is where Mary is sitting, holding in her 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


173 


hands the crown of thorns; everything else 
hatd been wrenched from her grasp, but this 
they had no use for. What a legacy it was ! 
As I look at it I see how he has gathered all 
the thorns of life and woven them into that 
kingly garland which is his glory. All the 
wealth of the Indies could not shed as dazzling 
a light as that thorny crown. Like the brave 
soldier who gathered into his own breast the 
spears of the enemy, Christ has taken the sting 
from our sorrows and made us more than con- 
querors over the wounds of earth. Surely he 
has tasted it all for us, — the baseness and cold- 
ness and ingratitude and treachery which have 
wrung human hearts all through the ages, — 
when Judas betrayed him, Peter denied him 
and they all forsook him and fled, do you sup- 
pose any other pain was comparable to that? 
Only our friends have the power to wound us, 
you know, and, ‘ he was wounded in the house 
of his friends. ’ When people talk of the cruci- 
flxion they think of the nail-torn hands and 
pierced side, — I think of his heart ! Oh, my 
Lord, how could they treat thee so ! ” 

Evadne looked wistfully at the rapt face, 
irradiated now by the moonlight which was 
streaming in through the window. How 
you love him. Aunt Marthe!” 

He is my all,” she answered simply. 


174 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


The girl stroked the hand which she still 
held in both her own. She is absolutely satis- 
fied, she thought sorrowfully, she wants noth- 
ing that I can give her. And then through 
the stillness she heard the sweet voice singing, — ■ 

“ I love thee because thou hast first loved me, 

And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree ; 

I love thee for wearing the thorns on thy brow, 

If ever I loved thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.” 


CHAPTEK XY. 


“Dear Aunt Marthe,” cried Evadne one 
afternoon, “what is love?” 

‘ ‘ I will answer you in the words of one who 
for years has lived the love-life,” said Mrs. 
Everidge. 

“ ‘ One must be himself infinite in knowledge 
to define it, infinite in comprehension to fathom 
it, infinite in love to appreciate it. Love is God 
in man, for “God is love,” and “every one 
that loveth is born of God;” but love is not 
merely veneration, nor respect, nor justice, nor 
passion, nor jealousy, nor sympathy, nor pity, 
nor self -gratification ; to love something as our 
own is but a form of self-love ; to love some- 
thing in order to win it for ourselves is just a 
perpetration of the same mistake.’ Dr. Karl 
Gerok wrote, — ‘ Love is the fundamental law 
of the world. First, as written in heaven, for 
God is love ; second, as written on the cross, 
for Christ is love; third, as written in our 
hearts, for Christianity is love, ’ And Drum- 
mond tells us that ‘ Love — is the rule for ful- 


176 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


filling all rules, the new commandment for 
keeping all the old commandments, Christ’s 
one secret of the Christian life. ’ And another 
writer says, — ‘ You are a personality only as 
your heart lives, and the heart lives only as it 
loves. Love is all action, therefore the amount 
of your active love measures the size of your 
personal heart. 

‘ ‘ ‘ Love has been defined as ‘ ‘ the desire to 
bless.” That is like divine love, for there can 
be no self thought in God. God’s love is over 
all and above all, but when our love responds 
to his, his love becomes to us a personal ex- 
perience. Love can reach down when in lov- 
ing trust we reach up. Love is like the seed. 
It manifests no life until it begins to grow. 
Like the seed it must rise out of the dark ground 
into the light of heaven, — out of self thought 
into God. God’s love to us is like the sun- 
light. We can make it our own only by being 
in it, if we try to shut up the sunlight, we shut 
it out. We forget to do wrong when loving 
God. As we love God, the love we feel for 
him goes out to others.’ ” 

Evadne sighed. “You make it seem a won- 
derful thing to be a Christian,” she said. 

“To be a Christian, little one, Andrew Mur- 
ray tells us, ‘just means to have Christ’s love.’ 
Keal love means giving always, of our best. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


177 


God so loved that he gave his Son, the 
essence of himself. Jesus gave his life, not 
only in the final agony of the crucifixion, 
but all through the beautiful years of ministry 
in ISTazareth and Galilee. There is a truer 
giving than of our temporal goods. Our friends, 
if they really love us, want most of all what 
we can give them of ourselves. It is those who 
give themselves to the world’s need who come 
nearest to the divine pattern Christ has set for 
us to copy, and, if we truly love him, we shall 
want not his gifts but himself. 

“People seek after holy living instead of 
perfect loving, they do not realize that we can 
be truly holy only as we love, for ‘ love is the 
great reality of the spiritual world.’ ” 

Evadne.laid her cheek caressingly against 
Mrs. Everidge’s. “If it were only you, dear, 
how delightfully easy it would be, hut do you 
suppose it is possible for me to love Aunt Kate 
and Isabelle?” 

“Yes, dear child, with the love of God.” 

“You can’t imagine how I dread the idea 
of going back! ” Evadne said with a sigh. 
“ This summer has been like a lovely dream. 
How shall I endure the cold reality of my 
waking?” 

“Where is your joy, little one?” 

“Joy, Aunt Marthe!” exclaimed Evadne 
12 


178 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


drearily, ‘‘why, I haven’t got any apart from 
you. Just the mere thought of the separation 
makes my heart ache.” 

“ ‘ The joy of the Lord,’ ” said Mrs. Eve- 
ridge softly. “ If Jesus Christ is able to fill 
heaven don’t you think he ought to be able to 
fill earth too? The trouble is we turn away 
from him and pour our wealth of love at earthly 
shrines. Mary showed us the better way, — • 
she broke the box, that every drop of the pre- 
cious ointment might fall on his dear head. 
What is going to be the crowning satisfaction 
of heaven ? Hot that we shall meet our friends, 
as so many seem to think, but that we shall 
awake in his likeness and see his face. We 
shall be ‘together,’ — we have that comfort 
given us, but it will be ‘ together with the 
Lord.’ He is to be the centre of attraction 
and delight always. What an unfathomable 
mystery it must be to the angels that he is not 
so with us now ! ’ ’ 

Evadne took a long, yearning look at the 
dear face, as if she would imprint it upon her 
memory forever. “ He is with you,” she said 
softly. “ will never be a puzzle to the 
angels.” 

The time of her stay in Yernon drew near 
its close, and on the last day but one she went 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


179 


to say good-bye to Penelope Kiggs. She 
found her sitting alone in the house, her mother 
having taken a fancy to have a sun bath. Her 
right hand was doubled up and she was rub- 
bing it slowly up and down the palm of her 
left while she sang softly. 

“Why, Penelope, what are you doing?” 
cried Evadne in amaze. 

“Polishin’j child. I learnt it long ago. 
One day I was that wore out I wouldn’t have 
cared if the sky had fallen, — things had been 
goin’ crooked, an’ Mother hadn’t slept well 
for a fortnight, an’ I was that narvous an’ 
tuckered out I thought I’d fly to pieces. 
There’s an old hymn Mother’s dredful fond 
of, — I don’t remember how it goes now, but 
there’s one line she keeps repeatin’ over an’ 
over till I feel ready to jump. It’s this, — 
“What dyin’ wurms we be.” So, when she 
begun her wurm song that mornin’ I just let 
fly. am a wurm,’ sez I, ‘I ain’t goin’ 

ter be allers lookin’ to see myself squirm ! ’ and 
with that I up and out of the house. My head 
was that tight inside I felt if I didn’t git out 
that minit somethin’ would snap. I went 
straight up to Mis’ Everidge’s. She’s one of 
the people you see who always lives on a hill, 
inside an’ out. When I got there I couldn’t 
speak. My heart’s weak at the best of times 


180 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


an’ the weather in there was pretty stormy. 
I just dropped into the first chair an’ she put 
her hands on my two shoulders an’ sez she, — 
^ You poor child ! ’ an’ then she went away an’ 
made me a syllabub. 

‘ ‘ ‘ Look on the bright side, ’ sez she in her 
cheery way when I had finished drinkin’. 

‘‘ ‘ Sakes alive. Mis’ Everidge,’ sez I, ‘ there 
isn’t any bright side!’ 

‘ Then polish up the dark one,’ sez she, ez 
quick ez a fiash. I’ve been tryin’ to do it 
ever since. ’ ’ 

“You dear Penelope!” exclaimed Evadne, 

‘ ‘ I think you have ! ’ ’ 

“It’s all a wale, child, a wale o’ tears,” 
old Mrs. Eiggs complained as she bade her 
good-bye in the porch, but when she reached 
the turn in the road she heard Penelope sing 
ing,— 

“ Thy way, not mine, O Lord, 

However dark it be I 
Lead me by Thine own hand ; 

Choose out my path for me. 

I dare not choose my lot, 

I would not if I might ; 

Choose Thou for me. My God, 

So shall I walk aright.” 

and Evadne knew that in the brave heart the 
voice of Christ had made the storm a calm. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 181 

“You dear Aunt Marthe ! How am I ever 
going to thank you for all you have been 
to me; and what shall I do without you?” 
Evadne spoke the words wistfully. They were 
making the most of their last evening. 

“Why, dear child, we can always be to- 
gether in spirit. ‘ It is not distance in miles 
that separates people but distance in feeling. ’ 
Emerson says, — ‘A man really lives where 
his thought is,’ so you can be in Yernon and I 
in Marlborough, — each of us held close in the 
hush of God’s love, which ‘ in its breadth is a 
girdle that encompasses the globe and a mantle 
that enwraps it. ’ ” 

Evadne caught Mrs. Everidge’s face between 
her hands and kissed it reverently. “ I mean 
to devote my life to making other people happy, 
as you do, my saint,” she said. 


‘ ‘ Board ! ’ ’ The conductor’s cry of warning 
smote the air and the train passengers made a 
final bustle of preparation for a start. Mrs. 
Everidge caught Evadne close in a last em- 
brace. 

‘ ‘ My precious little sister, I shall miss you 
every day I ’ ’ Then she was gone, and Evadne, 
looking eagerly out of her window, saw the 
dear face, from which the tears had been swept 


182 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


away, smiling brightly at her from the plat- 
form. 

‘‘You magnificent Christian!” she cried. 
“You will give others the sunshine always ! ” 

The train steamed into the station at Marl- 
borough and again Louis came forward to greet 
her with a look of admiration on his unusually 
animated face. 

“Well done, Evadne! If the atmosphere 
of 'Vernon can work such transformation as 
this, it ought to be bottled up and sold at 
twenty dollars the dozen. You go away look- 
ing like a snow- wraith, and you return a bloom- 
ing Hebe. ’ ’ 

Evadne laughed merrily. “Thank you. 
The atmosphere of Vernon has a wonderful 
power,” but it was not of the material ozone 
she was thinking as she spoke. 

“ I believe I will try it. My constitution is 
running down at the rate of an alarm clock. 
I must take my choice between a tonic and an 
early grave. Will you vouch for like good 
results in my case?” 

Evadne shook her head. “ I do not believe 
it would have the same effect upon everyone, ’ ’ 
she said. 

“Ah, then I shall be compelled to go to 
Europe.” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 183 

Evadne looked at him. ‘‘Yes,” she said, 
“ I think Europe would suit you better.” 

“ That is unfortunate, — ^for the Judge’s 
purse. How is Aunt Marthe?” 

“ She is well,” she answered with a sudden 
stillness in her voice. She could not trust her- 
self to talk about this friend of hers to careless 
questioners. “How is Uncle Lawrence, and 
all the others?” 

“ The Judge is in his usual state of health, 
I fancy. We rarely meet except at the table 
and then you know personal questions are not 
considered in good form. The others are well, 
and Isabelle, having just returned from the 
metropolis of Fashion, is more than ever au 
fait in the usages of polite society. But none 
of them have improved lilie you, little coz. 
What has changed you so?” 

And she answered softly, with a new light 
shining in her lovely eyes, — “ Jesus Christ.” 

“You poor Evadne!” said Marion that 
evening, ‘ ‘ what a dreary summer you must 
have had, shut away among those stupid moun- 
tains 1 If you could only have been with me, 
now. I never had such a lovely vacation in 
my life. There seemed to be some excitement 
every day; — ^picnics and boating parties and 
tennis matches and five o’ clocks ” 


184 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


Evadne laughed. “ You would better not 
let Uncle Horace know you are ‘ a votary of 
the deadly five o’clock ’ or he will empty his 
vials of denunciation upon your unlucky 
head. 

“ Oh, Aunt Kate, he sent you a large bun- 
dle of fraternal greetings. He says that, 
‘ viewed through the glamour of memory, you 
impress him like an Alpine landscape, when 
the sun is rising, and he hopes the soft bril- 
liance of prosperity will ever envelop you in its 
radiance and serve to enhance the beauty of 
your stately calm. ’ ’ ’ 

Mrs. Hildreth smiled, well pleased. ‘ ‘ Hor- 
ace is so poetical,” she said, “but all the 
Everidges are clever. What a shame it seems 
that a man of his talent should be forced by ill 
health to exist in a place where there is not a 
single soul capable of appreciating his rare 
qualities. Even his wife does not begin to un- 
derstand him. It seems like casting pearls 
before swine. ’ ’ 

Evadne’ s eyes fiashed and her lips pressed 
themselves tightly together, but Mrs. Hildreth’s 
gaze was fixed intently upon the lace shawl she 
was knitting and Louis just then gave a sud- 
den turn to the conversation. 

She went up to her room with a great home- 
sickness surging at her heart. Only last night 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


185 


all had been lightsome and happy, now the old 
darkness seemed to have settled down about 
her again. She knelt before her window and 
looked at the strip of sky which was all a Marl- 
borough residence allowed her. ‘ ‘ Happy 
stars ! ’ ’ she murmured, ‘ ‘ for you are shining 
on Aunt Marthe ! ’ ’ 

Far into the night she knelt there, until a 
great peace flooded her soul. She raised her 
hands towards the sparkling sky. ‘ ‘ To make 
the world brighter, to make the world better, 
to lift the world nearer to God. Blessed 
Christ, that was thy mission. I will make it 
mine ! ’ ’ 

The next morning Louis drew her aside. 
^ ‘ So, little coz, you did not coincide with the 
lady mother’s eulogium of our respected col- 
lateral last night?” 

“Why, I said nothing!” cried Evadne in 
astonishment. 

Louis laughed. “ Have jmu never heard of 
e^^es that speak and faces that tell tales?” he 
said. “I will just whisper a word of warning 
before you play havoc with your web of des- 
tiny. Don’t let a suspicion of your dislike 
cross the lady mother’s mind, for Uncle Horace 
is her beau-ideal of a man. I agree with you. 
I think he is a cad. ’ ’ 


CHAPTEE XYI. 


‘‘ An invitation to Professor Joliette’s,” and 
Isabelle tossed a gilt-edged card across the 
table to Marion; “ Wednesday evening. It’s 
not a very long invitation. What dress will 
you wear?” 

“But you are engaged, Marion,” said 
Evadne; “ Wednesday evening, you know.” 

“Yes,” said Marion with a sigh, “it is 
awkward. I do wish they would choose some 
other night for prayer meeting. Wednesday 
seems such a favorite with everybody.” 

‘ ‘ What a little prig you are getting to be, 
Evadne!” said Isabelle with a sneer. “ Your 
only diversion seems to be prayer meeting and 
church. You are as bad as Aunt Marthe.” 

“Aunt Marthe a prig! Oh, that is too 
funny!” and Evadne gave one of her low, 
sweet laughs. “Besides, does keeping one’s 
engagements constitute a prig, Isabelle? You 
wouldn’t think so if you were invited to the 
President’s reception.” 

“The President’s reception! What does 
186 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


187 


get into the child! I don’t see much analogy 
between the two cases. ]^o one considers 
prayer meeting a binding engagement, and I’m 
sure we go as often as we can.” 

“Not binding!” echoed Evadne. “So 
Christ is not of as much importance as the 
President of the United States!” 

“ You do have such a way of putting things, 
Evadne!” said Marion thoughtfully. “I ex- 
pect we had better refuse, Isabelle.” 

‘ ‘ Kef use, — nonsense ! ’ ’ said Isabelle sharply. 
“You always meet the best people at the 
Joliettes’, — besides, why should we run the 
risk of offending them?” 

“ Wh}’’ should they run the risk of offending 
you, by choosing a night they know you cannot 
come?” asked Evadne. 

‘ ‘ Kidiculous ! What do they care about our 
church concerns? The Joliettes are foreigners. 
People in polite society do not give religion 
such an unpleasant prominence as you delight 
in, Evadne. For my part, I consider it very 
bad form. ’ ’ 

“ Breakers ahead, Evadne,” said Louis with 
his cynical laugh. “Good form is Isabelle’s 
fetich. Woe betide the unlucky wight who 
dares to hold an opinion of his own. ’ ’ 

“But,” said Evadne, the old puzzled look 
coming into her eyes, “ I wish I could under- 


188 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


stand. Are Christians ashamed of the re- 
ligion of Jesus?” 

“That’s about the amount of it, little coz. 
It is a sort of hedge anchor which they keep 
on board in case of danger. For my part I 
think it is better to sail clear. It is only an 
uncomfortable addition which spoils the trim 
of the ship.” 

“Oh, Louis, don’t!” exclaimed Marion 
with a sigh. “ It is so hard to know what is 
right 1 Sometimes I wish I were a nun, shut 
up in a convent, and then I should have noth- 
ing else to do. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Doubtless the Lord would appreciate that 
sort of faithfulness,” said Louis gravely, “ al- 
though I notice Christianity seems to be a sort 
of Sing-Sing arrangement with the majority. 
Everything is done under a sense of compul- 
sion, and the air is lurid with trials and la- 
mentations and woe. It is not an alluring life, 
and, in my opinion, the jolly old world shows 
its sense in steering clear of it. ’ ’ 

“Your irreverence is shocking, Louis,” said 
Isabelle severely, ‘ ‘ and you are as much of an 
extremist as Evadne. No one could live such 
i life as you seem to expect. Religion has its 
)roper place, of course, but I do not think it is 
wise to speak of the deep things of life on all 
occasions. ’ ’ 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


189 


‘ ‘ ‘ I determined not to know anything 
among you, save Jesus Christ, and him cruci- 
fied,’ ” quoted Evadne. “Was Paul mis- 
taken then?” 

“ Certainly, my dear coz,” said Louis, as he 
prepared to leave the room. “The greatest 
men are subject to that infirmity. The only 
one who has never been mistaken is Isabelle.” 

“It is so provoking that we cannot have 
the carriage,” grumbled Isabelle, as, when 
Wednesday evening came, they waited for 
Louis in the dining-room. “ At the Joliettes’ 
of all places! I am sure I don’t see. Papa, 
why you cannot insist upon Pompey’s taking 
some other night off when we need him on 
Wednesdays. It is horribly awkward ! ” 

Her father shook his head as he slowly 
peeled an orange. “ Because I have given 
him my word, my dear. The only stipulation 
he made when I engaged him was that he 
should not be required to drive on Sundays and 
Wednesday evenings, and, when I hear people 
complaining about their surly, incapable coach- 
men, I consider it is a light price to pay. 
Pompey is as sober as a church and as pleasant- 
tempered in a rain storm as a water-spaniel, — 
no matter what hour of the night you keep 
him waiting ; so it is the least we can do to let 


190 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


the poor fellow be sure of one evening to him- 
self;” and the Judge opened his Times and 
began to study the money market. 

‘ ‘ Well, ’ ’ said Isabelle crossly. ‘ ‘ I, for one, 
don’t believe in allowing servants to have such 
cast-iron rules. It savors too much of social- 
ism. ’ ’ 

‘‘ Exactly so,” said Louis from the doorway, 
where he stood leisurely buttoning his gloves. 
‘‘ You will never pose as the goddess of liberty, 
ma belle soeur. It is a good thing that Lin- 
coln got the Emancipation bill signed before 
you came into power, or dusky millions might 
still be weeping tears of blood.” 

Isabelle swept past him with an indignant 
toss of her head, and the front door closed after 
the trio with a metallic clang. 

I don’t wonder the poor child is anno^^ed,” 
said Mrs. Hildreth as she played with her 
grapes. “ It is very embarrassing when peo- 
ple know that we keep a carriage; and the 
Joliettes are such sticklers in the matter of 
etiquette. It is a ridiculous fad of yours, Law- 
rence, to be so punctilious. ’ ’ 

‘‘But, my dear, I gave him my word of 
honor ! ’ ’ 

“What if you did? There are exceptions 
to every rule. ’ ’ 

“ Hot in the Hildreth code of honor, Kate.” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


191 


“ITonsense! What does a colored coach- 
man understand about that! Why, Evadne, 
you cannot go to prayer meeting alone!” she 
exclaimed, as Evadne came into the room with 
her hat on. “Your uncle is busy and I am 
too tired, so there is no way for you to get 
home. ’ ’ 

“I am going to Dyce’s church. Aunt Kate. 
Pompey will bring me home. ’ ’ 

“Among a lot of shouting negroes! You 
must be crazy, child ! ’ ’ 

“Their souls are white. Aunt Kate, and 
there is no color line on the Eock of Ages. ’ ’ 
“Oh, well, tastes differ,” said her aunt 
carelessly, “but it is a strange fancy for Judge 
Hildreth’s niece. Next thing you will suggest 
going to board with Pompey. ’ ’ 

“I might fare a good deal worse,” said 
Evadne with her soft laugh. “Dyce keeps 
her rooms like waxwork and she is a capital 
cook. ’ ’ 

“Keally, Evadne, I am in despair! You 
have not an iota of proper pride. How are 
you going to maintain your position in so- 
ciety?” 

“ I don’t believe I care to test the question. 
Aunt Kate ; but I think my position will main- 
tain itself.” 

“Well said, Evadne,” said her uncle, look- 


192 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


ing up from his paper. “You will never for- 
get you are a Hildreth, eh?” 

“Higher than that, uncle,” said Evadne 
softly. “ I am a sister of Jesus Christ.” 

“ I don’t know what to make of the child,” 
said Mrs. Hildreth discontentedly, as the door 
closed behind her. ‘ ‘ I believe she would 
rather associate with such people than with 
those of her own class. She has a bowing 
acquaintance with the most outre looking in- 
dividuals I ever saw. I really don’t think 
Dr. Jerome is wise setting young girls to visit 
in the German quarter. It doesn’t hurt 
Marion, now. She only does it as a dis- 
agreeable duty and is immensely relieved when 
her round of visits is made for the month, but 
Evadne takes as much interest in them as if 
they were her relations. Hext thing we know, 
she will be wanting to take up slum work. I 
hope she won’t come to any harm down among 
those crazy blacks. They always seem to get 
possessed the moment they touch religion. ’ ’ 

“ I do not think Evadne will ever come to 
any harm,” the Judge said slowly. “The 
Lord takes pretty good care of his own.” 

His wife looked at him with a puzzled ex- 
pression. ‘ ‘ I fully intended going to pray ei 
meeting myself to-night,” she said, “but it 
gets to be a great tax, — an evening out of 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


193 


every week, — and I do dread the night air 
so much.” 

Mrs. Judge Hildreth dipped her jeweled 
fingers into the perfumed water of her finger 
glass and dried them on her silk-fringed 
napkin. “Oh, Lawrence, don’t forget Judge 
Traver’s dinner to-morrow night. You will 
have to come home earlier, than usual, for it 
is such a long drive, and it will never do to 
keep his mulligatawny waiting. And, by the 
way, I made a new engagement for you to- 
day. Mrs. General Leighton has invited us to 
join the Shakespearean Club which she is get- 
ting up. It is to be very select. Will meet 
at the different houses, you know, with a 
choice little supper at the close. She says the 
one she belonged to in Atlanta was a brilliant 
affair. She comes from one of Georgia’s first 
families, you remember.” 

“A Shakespearean Club!” and Judge Hil- 
dreth smiled incredulously. ‘ ^ Why, my dear, 
I never knew you and the immortal Will had 
much affinity for each other 1 ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Oh, of course it is more for the prestige 
of the thing. Mrs. Leighton said the General 
assured her you would never find leisure for 
it, but I said I would promise for you. It 
is only one evening a week you know. She 
thinks we Americans retire far too early from 

13 


194 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


the eojoyments of life in favor of our children, 
and I believe she is right. I certainly do not 
feel myself in the sere and yellow,” and Mrs. 
Judge Hildreth regarded herself complacently 
in the long mirror before which she stood. 
‘‘You will manage to make the time, Law- 
rence?” 

“ What other answer but ‘yes ’ can Petru- 
chio make to ‘ the prettiest Kate in Christen- 
dom’?” replied the Judge, bowing gallantly 
to the face in the mirror as he came up and 
stood beside his wife. It was a handsome face 
but there was a hardness about it, and the lines 
around the mouth which bespoke an indomi- 
table will, had deepened with the years. 

“Only one evening a week, Kate, but you 
thought that too much of a tax just now.” 

“How absurd you are, Lawrence! When 
shall I make you understand that there are 
sacrifices that must be made. We owe a duty 
to society. We cannot afford to let ourselves 
drop wholly out of the world.” 

A little later Judge Hildreth entered his 
library with a heavy sigh. He had attained 
the ends he had striven for, he was respected 
alike in the church and the world, he held a 
high and lucrative position, he had a well ap- 
pointed home, over which his handsome wife 
presided with dignity and grace, and yet, as 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


195 


he took his seat before his desk in the lofty 
room whose shelves were lined with gems of 
thought in fragrant, costly bindings, life 
seemed to have missed its sweetness to Law- 
rence Hildreth. 

Evadne’s words haunted him, and, lil^e an 
accusing angel, the letter which still lay hid- 
den under the mass of papers in the drawer 
which he never opened, seemed to look at him 
reproachfully. 

“A sister of Jesus Christ.’’ Sisters and 
brothers lived together. Was it possible that 
Jesus Christ could be in this house, — this very 
room? The idea was appalling. He was fa- 
miliar with the truism that God was every- 
where, but he had never really believed it; 
and, as the years passed, he had found it con- 
venient to remove him to a shadowy distance 
in space, less likely to interfere with modern 
business methods. Jesus Christ, enshrined in 
a far off glory among his angels, appealed to 
the decorum of his religious sentiment; but 
Jesus Christ, face to face, to be reckoned with 
in the practical details of honesty and fair deal- 
ing; that was a different matter. And this 
was the violation of a dead man’s trust, who 
had put everything in his power because he had 
faith in him I 

He saw again the young brother, handsome, 


196 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


easy-going to a fault, but with a sense of honor 
so fine as to shrink in indignation from the 
slightest breath of shame ; read again the clos- 
ing words of the farewell letter which he had 
read for the first time on the day now so long 
ago, which he would have given worlds to re- 
call, and which, from out the shadowy recesses 
of eternity, laughed at his futile wish. 

‘ ‘ So, my dear brother, ’ ’ the letter ran, ‘ ‘ I am 
giving you this responsibility as only a brother 
can. I have left Evadne absolutely untram- 
melled. I have no fear that my little girl will 
abuse the trust. She is wise beyond her years, 
with a sense of honor as keen as your own. ’ ’ 

The Judge’s head sank upon his hands. It 
was for Evadne’ s good he had persuaded him- 
self. She was too much of a child, — and now, 
— the letter could not be delivered. It meant 
disgrace and shame. It was his duty as a 
father to shield his family from that. How 
well he could picture Evadne’ s look of bewil- 
dered, incredulous surprise, and then the pain, 
tinged with scorn, which would creep into the 
clear eyes. And Jesus Christ! The Judge’s 
head sank lower as he heard the voice which 
has rung down through the ages in scathing 
denunciation of all subterfuge and lies. 

“Woe unto you . . . hypocrites! for ye 
tithe mint and anise and cummin, and have left 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. I97 

undone the weightier matters of the law, jus- 
tice and mercy and faith.” 

“Woe unto you . . . hjrpocrites! for ye 
cleanse the outside of the cup and of the plat- 
ter, but within they are full from extortion 
and excess. ’ ’ 

“Woe unto you . . . hypocrites! for ye 
are like unto whited sepulchres which out- 
wardly appear beautiful, but inwardly are full 
of dead men’s bones.” 

Lower and lower sank the Judge’s head, 
until at last it rested upon the desk with a 
groan. 

They were singing when Evadne reached 
the humble church which Dyce and Pompey 
called their spiritual home. The walls were 
white-washed and the seats were hard, for the 
“Disciples of Jesus” possessed but little of 
this world’s goods. Two prayers followed, 
full of rich imagery and fervid passion, and 
then a young girl with a deep contralto voice 
began to sing, — 

“ Steal away, steal away, 

Steal away to Jesus I 
Steal away, steal away home. 

We ain’t got long to stay here.” 

The soft, deep notes of the weird melody ended 


198 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


in a burst of triumph, and Evadne bent her 
head while her tired heart thrilled with joy. 
When she looked up again Dyce was speak- 
ing. 

“I’ve ben thinkin’, Mens,” she said, “that 
we don’t get the sweetness of them words inter 
our hearts ez we should. We’se too much 
taken up wid de thought of de heavenly man- 
shuns to ’member dat de Xing’s chillen hez an 
inheritance on de earth. We’se not poor, 
lonesome people widout a home! De dear 
Christ promised, ‘ I will not leave youse 
orphans, I will come to youse,’ an’ he who 
hez de Lord Jesus alongside, hez de best of 
company. ’Pears like we don’t let our 
Father’s message go any deeper dan de top 
of our heads. Ef we believes we’se preshus in 
his sight, — an’ de Bible sez we is, — we’ll hev 
no occashun fer gettin discouraged, fer de dear 
Lord’s boun ter do de best fer his loved ones. 
Ef we’se keepin’ company wid Jesus we’se no 
call ter want de worl’s invitashuns, anef we’se 
hidden away in Christ’s heart dere’s no need 
fer us ter be frettin’ about de little worriments 
of earth. Satan don’t hev no chance where 
Jesus is. Ef we’se tempted. Mens, an’ fall 
inter sin, it’s ’cause we’se not livin’ close ter 
de Saviour. 

“I knows we allers tinks of a home as a 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


199 


place where dere is good times, an’ dere don’t 
seem much good times goin’ fer some of us in 
dis worl’, but dere ain’t no call fer us ter spec’ 
ter be better off dan our Lord, an ef we’se 
feedin’ on de Lord Jesus all de time we won’t 
min’ ef de worl’s bread is scarce; de soul ain’t 
dependin’ on dem tings fer nourishmen’ an’ de 
Lord Jesus makes de hard bed easy an’ de 
coarse food taste good. 

“ ’Tain’t good management fer us ter be 
allers groanin’ in dis worl’ while we ’spect ter 
be singin’ de glory song up yonder. De best 
singers is dem dat’s longes’ trainin’ an’ I’se 
feared some of us’ 11 find it drefful hard ter git 
up ter de proper concert pitch in heaven ef we 
sings nuthin but lamentashuns on earth. De 
dear Lord don’t seem ter hev made any sort of 
pervishun for fault findin’. He ’low dere’ll 
be trubble, but he tells us ter be of good cheer 
on account of hevin’ him ter git de victry fer 
us, an’ ef we keep singin’ all de time, dere 
ain’t no time fer sighs. Let us keep a- whis- 
perin’ to our Father, my friens. It’s a beau- 
tiful worl’ he’s put us in, an’ dere ain’t no 
combine ter keep us back from enjoyin’ de best 
tings in it. De sky belong ter us ez much as 
to de rich folks, an’ de grass an’ de trees an’ 
de birds an’ de fiowers; de roUin rivers an’ 
de mighty ocean belongs ter us. De only 


200 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


priviluge de rich folks hez is dat dey kin sail 
on deir billows while we hez ter stan’ along- 
side, — but dey’s powerfu’ unhappy sometimes 
when dey hez so much ter look after, an’ we 
kin enjoy lookin’ at deir fine houses widout 
hevin’ any of de care. 

“We’se not payin’ much complimen’ ter 
Jesus, friens, when we ’low dat de good tings 
of dis worl’ kin make people happier dan he 
kin, an’ ’pears like we ought ter be ’shamed 
of ourselves. De Bible sez we’se ter ‘ live an’ 
move an’ hev our bein’ in God,’ an’ it don’t 
’pear becomin’ when we hev such a home per- 
vided fer us, ter be allers grumblin’ ’cause we 
can’t live in de brown stone fronts an’ keep a 
kerridge. We don’t begin ter understan’ how 
ter live up ter our privilegus, friens, an’ I’se 
bowed in shame as I tink how de dear Lord’s 
heart must ache as he sees how -little we’se 
appresheatin’ his lovin’ kindness.” 

The tender, pleading voice ceased and then 
Dyce lifted her clasped hands, — “ Oh, Lord 
Jesus, help us ter glorify thee before de worl’. 
Help us ter understan’ an ’predate de wonder- 
ful honor thou hez put upon us. Make us used 
ter dwellin’ wid thee on de earth, so as we 
won’t feel like strangers in heaven. Oh, bless- 
ed J esus, by de remembrance of de thorn marks 
an’ de nail prints an’ de woun’ in thy side for- 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


201 


give thy ungrateful chillen. We’se ben a’ 
lookin’ roun on de perishin’ tings of earth fer 
our comfort, an’ a’ seekin’ our homes in this 
worl’. Lord, help us ter find our real home in 
thee ! Help us ter steal away ter Jesus, when 
de storm cloud hangs low and de billows roar 
about our heads. Here’s no shadows in de 
home thou makes, fer ’de light of de work is 
Jesus,’ an’ ebery room is full of de sunshine of 
thy love. Here’s no harm kin cum to us ef 
we’se inside de fold, fer thou art de door. 
Lord Jesus; dere’s no danger kin touch us ef 
we’se hidden in de cleft of de rock. Lord, 
make us abide in de secret place of de Almighty 
an’ hoi’ us close forever under de shadow of 
thy wing. ’ ’ 

Then the congregation dispersed to the hum- 
ble homes, glorified now by the possibility of 
being made the dwelling-place of the King of 
kings. 


CHAPTEE XYII. 


It was intensely warm in the Marlborough 
Steel Works. Outdoors the sun beat fiercely 
upon the heads of toiling men and horses while 
the heat waves danced with a dazzling shim- 
mer along the brick pavements. Indoors there 
was the steady thud of the engine, and the 
great hammers clanked and the belts swept 
through the air with a deafening whirr, while 
the workmen drew blackened hands across their 
grimy foreheads and John Eandolph gave a 
sigh of longing for the cool forest chambers of 
Hollywood, as he leaned over to exchange a 
cheery word with Eichard Trueman, beside 
whom he had been working for over a year 
and for whom he had come to entertain a strong 
feeling of affection. 

Varied experiences had come to him since he 
had said good-by to his kind Quaker friends 
and started on his search for work. Monoto- 
nous days of wood piling in a lumber yard, long 
weeks of isolation among the giant trees of the 
forest, where no sound was to be heard except 
202 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


203 


the whistle of the axes, as they cleaved the air, 
and the coarse jokes of the workmen, — then 
had come days when even odd jobs had been 
hailed with delight, and he had sat at the 
feet of the grim schoolmistress Necessity and 
learned how little man really needs to have to 
live. And then the Steel Works had opened 
again and he had forged his way up through 
the different departments to the responsible 
position he now held. His promotion had been 
rapid. The foreman had been quick to note 
the keen, intelligent interest and deft-handed- 
ness of this strangely alert new employ^. He 
finished his work in the very best way that it 
was possible to do it, even though it took a 
little longer in the doing. Such workmen were 
not common at the Marlborough Steel Works. 
He put his heart into whatever he did. That 
was John Kandolph’s way. There was some- 
thing about the work which pleased him. It 
gave him a feeling of triumph to watch the 
evolution of the crude chaos into the finished 
perfection, and see how through baptism of fire 
and flood the diverse particles emerged at length 
a beautifully tempered whole. He read as in 
an allegory the discipline which a soul needs to 
fit it for the kingdom, and so throughout the 
meshes of his daily toil John Eandolph wove 
his parable. 


204 : 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


When evening came he would stride cheerily 
along the dingy street to the house where he 
and his fellow- workman lodged, refresh him- 
self with a hot bath, don what he called his 
dress suit, and after their simple meal and a 
frolic with little Dick, the motherless boy who 
was the joy of Eichard Trueman’s heart, he 
would settle down for a long evening of study 
among his cherished books. John Eandolph 
never lost sight of the fact that he was to be a 
physician by and by. 


Somewhere in one of the great centers of 
the world’sindustry a workman had blundered. 
His conscience urged him to confess his mis- 
take, while Satan whispered with a sneer, — 
“Yes, and get turned adrift for your pains, 
with a rating into the bargain ! ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Hever mind if you do lose a week’s wages, ’ ’ 
conscience had pleaded, “your hands will be 
clean, ’ ’ and the workman shrugged his shoulders 
with a muttered, “Pshaw! What do I care 
for that, so long as I don’t git found out. I’ll 
fix it so as no one kin tell it was me. ’ ’ 

The work was passed upon by the foreman 
and the Company’s certificate attached. The 
man chuckled, “Hooray! How that it’s out 
from under old Daggett’s eyes nobody’ll ever 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 205 

be able to lay the blame on me ! ” and he had 
gone home whistling. He forgot God ! 


The long, stifling day was drawing near its 
close. Half an hour more and the workmen 
would be free to rest. Only half an hour! 
Suddenly there was a sharp clicking sound, 
then a cry, and in an instant all was bustle and 
confusion at the Marlborough Steel Works. 
The great hammers hung suspended in mid-air, 
the whirling wheels were still, while the work- 
men, with faces showing pale beneath the 
grime, gathered hastily around a fallen com- 
rade. Summoned by telephone the Company’s 
surgeon was driving rapidly towards the Works, 
but his services would not be required. 

An accident. Ho one knew just how it hap- 
pened. There must have been a flaw, a defect in 
some part of the machinery. These things do 
happen. Somewhere there had been careless- 
ness, dishonesty, and the price of it was — a life ! 

The dying man opened his eyes suddenly 
and looked full at John Kandolph, who knelt 
beside him supporting his head on his arm. 

“Little Dick,” he murmured. 

“All right, Trueman, I will take care of 
him.” 

“ God bless you, John !” and with the fervid 


206 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


benediction, the breath ceased and the spirit 
flew away. 

The body was prepared for the inquest, and 
through the gathering dusk John, strangely 
white and silent, entered the house he called 
home, gathered the fatherless boy into his arms 
and let him sob out his grief upon his shoulder. 


Some days after the funeral the Manager 
sent for John to come to his private ofiice. He 
was a pleasant man and had taken a kindly in- 
terest in the capable young workman from the 
start. 

‘ ‘ Well, Eandolph, this is a terrible business of 
poor Trueman, ’ ’ he said, as he pointed him to a 
chair. ‘ ‘ Terrible ! I can’t get over it. A fine 
man and one of our best finishers too. Well, 
we can’t do anything for him now, poor fellow, 
but he left a boy I think?” 

‘‘Yes, sir,” said John simply; “I have 
taken him to live with me. ’ ’ 

“Shake hands, Eandolph! We talk about 
what ought to be done and you do it. Is that 
your usual mode of procedure?” 

John laughed. “ There was nothing else to 
do,” he said. 

“ H’ m. Most fellows in your position would 
have thought it was the last thing • possible. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


207 


Have you any idea what it means to saddle 
yourself with a child like this? Whatever put 
such an idea into your head?’’ 

“Jesus Christ,” answered John quietly. 

‘ ‘ Well, well, you’re a queer fellow, Randolph. 
But how are you going to make the wages spin 
out? A boy is ‘ a growing giant of wants 
whom the coat of Have is never large enough 
to cover.’ ” 

“His father managed, so can I.” John’s 
voice shook a little. 

“His father! But he was his father, you 
see. That makes a mighty difference. Well, 
Randolph, I give you up. You are beyond 
me.” 

John rose. “Was that all you wished to say 
to me, Mr. Branford?” 

“Sit down, man! What the mischief are 
you in such a hurry for? It stands to reason 
the Company can’t let you bear the brunt of 
this most deplorable occurrence, though I don’t 
believe we could have found a better guardian 
for the poor little lad. But guardians expect 
to be paid for their trouble. What price do 
you set, Randolph?” 

“I don’t want any pay for obeying my 
Master, Mr. Branford.” 

“ Your Master, Randolph?” said the Mana- 
ger with a puzzled stare. 


208 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


‘‘Yes, sir, Jesus Christ.” 

“Upon my word, Kandolph, you’re a queer 
fellow ! Well, if you don’t want pay, I want 
some one with a head on his shoulders in this 
office. Any of the fellows in the outside office 
would be glad of the chance to get in here, but 
I want a man who understands what he is 
doing as well as I do myself. You have prac- 
tical knowledge, Eandolph, you’re the man I 
want. I shall expect you to start in here to- 
morrow morning. The salary will be double 
your present wages. And, since you have 
constituted yourself guardian of the boy, I may 
as well tell you that the Company has decided 
to set aside a yearly sum for his maintenance 
and education. 

“Now you can go, if you are in such a tre- 
mendous hurry, Kandolph : only don’t try any 
more of such toploftiness with me. It won’t 
go down, you see;” and the Manager chuckled 
softly, as John, with broken thanks, left the 
room. ‘ ‘ I rather think I got the better of him 
that time !” he said to himself. 


CHAPTEE XYIII. 


Judge Hildredth sat in his private office, 
immersed in anxious thought. Every day 
brought new difficulties to be wrestled with in 
connection with the multitudinous schemes 
which were making an old man of him while 
he was still in his prime. His hair was grey, 
his hands trembled, his eyes were bloodshot, 
and his face had the unhealthy pallor which 
accompanies intense nervous pressure and ex- 
citement. 

He knew that it was so, and the knowledge 
did not tend to sweeten his disposition. He 
told himself again and again that he could not 
help it, — it was the force of circumstances and 
the curse of competition. Like the fly in the 
spider’s parlor, he found himself inextricably 
enveloped in the silken maze of deceit which he 
had entered so blithely years ago. He had 
ceased to question bitterly whether the game 
was worth the candle. He told himself the 
Fates had decreed it, and the game had to 
be played out to the end. The principal 
14 209 


210 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


thing now was to keep the pieces moving and 
prevent a checkmate, for that would mean 
ruin ! 

One of the office boys knocked at the door 
and presented a card, for into this sanctum 
sanctorum no one was permitted to enter unan- 
nounced. The card bore the name of the nom- 
inal president of the Consolidated Provident 
Savings Company, which was one of the nu- 
merous schemes that Judge Hildreth had on 
hand. It was not always wise to have his 
name appear. He believed in sleeping part- 
nerships. As he explained it to himself, that 
gave one a free hand. 

The Consolidated Provident Savings Com- 
pany was a popular institution in Marlborough. 
There were conservative financiers who shook 
their heads and feared that its methods were 
not based on sound business principles and 
savored too much of wild-cat schemes and 
fraudulent speculations, but they were voted 
cranks by the majority, and the Consolidated 
Provident Savings Company grew and flour- 
ished. It paid large dividends, and its stock- 
holders were duly impressed with the magnifi- 
cence of its buildings and the grandiose tone of 
its officials. 

Judge Hildreth frowned heavily as he read 
the name, and was about to deny himself to 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 211 

the visitor, but on second thought he curtly 
ordered the boy to show him in. 

The man who obeyed the invitation bowed 
deferentially to his chief and then took a chair 
in front of him, with the table between. He 
was elaborately dressed, and the shiny silk hat 
which he deposited on the table looked aggres- 
sively prosperous. His manner betokened a 
man suddenly inflated with a sense of his own 
importance. His hair was sandy, and the thin 
moustache and beard failed to cover the piti- 
fully weak lines of his mouth and chin. 

‘ ‘ Good-morning, Peters. ’ ’ The Judge nod- 
ded carelessly as he spoke, but he moved un- 
easily in his chair. Of late the sight of this 
man fretted him. It seemed as if he always 
saw him accompanied by a ghostly form. He 
tried to shake off the impression, and told him- 
self angrily that he was falling into his dotage ; 
but his memory would not yield. He saw 
again the pleading, trustful face of the man’s 
mother as, years ago, she had besought him to 
do what he could for her son. 

“Just make a man of him, like yourself. 
Judge Hildreth,” she had pleaded. “I will 
be more than satisfied then. I want my boy 
to be respected and to have a place in the 
world. Folks needn’t know how hard his 
mother had to work.” 


212 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


The Judge smiled grimly as he thought of 
her phrasing, — “a man like yourself.’’ She 
did not know how near to it he had come ! 

The boy had a surface smartness, and he 
had proved himself an apt scholar. The Judge 
had found him a willing tool in many of his 
deep laid schemes to get money for less than 
money’s Worth. But within the last few 
months there had been a change. A spark of 
manhood had asserted itself, and in the pres- 
ence of his minion the Judge found himself 
upon the rack. 

He was the first to speak. ‘ ‘ I hope there is 
nothing out of the usual?” he said. “I in- 
tended coming over to the office before the 
meeting of directors took place. ’ ’ 

“It is the same old trouble about bonds, 
Judge Hildreth. There are not enough of them 
to go round.” 

The Judge rubbed his hands in simulated 
pleasure. “ Well, that shows good manage- 
ment, Peters, if the public are hungry for our 
stock. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ The public are fools ! ’ ’ said the young man, 
hotly. 

“ Hot at all, Peters. A discriminating pub- 
lic, you know, always chooses the best deposi- 
taries.” He chuckled softly. He had turned 
his eyes towards the window so as not to see 


A BEAVTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


213 


the ghostly figure behind the young man’s chair 
which had such a world of reproach in its face. 
“There is only one thing to do, Peters. We 
must water it a little, eh?” 

“ It seems to me we’ve been using the water- 
ing-pot rather too frequently. ’ ’ 

The Judge started. Had he detected a 
menace in the tone? 

He temporized. His plans were not suffi- 
ciently matured yet. When they were he 
would crush this tool of his as surely and as 
carelessly as he would have crushed a fiy. 

“Nonsense, Peters!” he said pleasantly; 
“that is only a little clever financing to tide 
us over the hard places. Of course we will 
make it all good to the public — by and bye. ’ ’ 

“How?” The question rang out through 
the office like a pistol shot. 

The Judge looked at the man before him in 
amaze. For once his face showed determina- 
tion and an honest purpose. 

“Will you tell me how we’re going to do 
it?” he persisted with a strange vehemence. 
“ I’ve been a fool. Judge Hildreth, a blamed, 
gigantic fool! I’ve let you hoodwink me and 
lead me by the nose for years. I’ve done your 
dirty work for you and borne the credit of it, 
too; but I swear I’ll not do it any longer. I 
thought at first — fool that I was — that every- 


214 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


thing you did was just the right thing to copy. 
My poor old mother told me you were the 
pattern I was to follow if I wanted to be an 
honorable man. An honorable man! Good 
heavens ! 

“Do you know where I’ve been these last 
months? I’ve been in hell, sir; in hell, I tell 
you ! Every night I’ve dreamed of my mother 
and every day I’ve bamboozled the public and 
sold bonds that weren’t worth the paper they 
were written on, and paid big dividends that 
were just some of their own money returned. 
And now you tell me to keep on watering the 
stock when you know wo haven’t a dollar put 
towards the ‘ Eest’ and the money is just pour- 
ing out for expenses and directors’ fees. 
There’s barely enough left over to keep up the 
sham of dividends. You know it as well as I 
do. I’ve been an ass and an idiot, but I’m 
done with living a lie. Judge Hildreth, I came 
to tell you that if you don’t do the square thing 
by these people who have trusted us. I’ll expose 
you!” 

His vehemence was tremendous and the words 
poured out in a torrent which never checked 
its flow. He had risen and in his excitement 
paced up and down the room. Now, over- 
come by his effort, he sank exhausted into a 
chair. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


215 


Judge Hildreth rose suddenly and locked the 
office door. When he turned again his face 
was not a pleasant sight to see. 

“ President Peters,” he said sternly, ‘‘this 
is not the age of heroics nor the place for them. 
In future I beg you to remember our relative 
positions. You seem to forget that I am the 
direct cause of your present prosperity, but 
that is an omission which men of your stamp 
are liable to make. I never expect gratitude 
from those whom I have befriended. 

“But when you come to threats, that is 
another matter. You say you will expose me. 
To whom, if you please? You are the Presi- 
dent of the Consolidated Company. Your 
name is associated with its business. Mine does 
not appear in any way, shape or form. You 
sign all papers, and it is you whom the public 
hold accountable for all moneys deposited in 
the institution. Any attempt which you might 
make to connect me with the enterprise would 
be futile, utterly futile. The public would not 
believe you, and you could not prove it in any 
court of law. ’ ’ 

The man, worn and spent with his emotion, 
lifted his head and looked at the Judge with 
dazed, lack-luster eyes. 

“Not connected with the enterprise,” he 
repeated, “why, the whole thought of the 


216 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


thing came from you! and you have drawn 
thousands of dollars ” 

‘ ‘ I have simply given advice, ’ ’ interrupted 
the Judge haughtily. 

‘‘Advice! ” echoed the man, “and doesn’t 
advice count in law?” 

“If you can prove it;” said the Judge with 
a cold smile. ‘ ‘ Do you ever remember hav- 
ing any of my opinions in writing, President 
Peters? The law takes cognizance only of 
black and white, you know. ’ ’ 

The victim writhed in his chair, as the trap 
in which he was caught revealed itself. Heavily 
his eyes searched Judge Hildreth’s face for 
some sign of pity or relenting, but in vain. 

‘ ‘ And if there should come a run on the 
funds?” he questioned dully. 

“ If there should come a run on the funds,” 
answered the Judge, ^^you would be under- 
neath. ’ ’ 

The man’s head fell forward upon the table, 
and the Judge, with a cruel smile, left the 
room. 

Two office boys lingered in the handsome 
offices of the Consolidated Provident Savings 
Company after business hours were over. 

“ I tell you what it is, Bob,” said the eldest 
one, “I’m going to quit this concern. It’s 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


217 


my opinion it’s a rotten corporation; and I 
don’t propose to ruin my standing with the 
commercial world.” 

“ Gee!”- exclaimed the younger boy in de- 
light. ‘‘ You’re a buster, Joe, and no mistake. 
The president himself couldn’t have rolled that 
sentence off better, or that old piece of pom- 
posity who comes to the secret meetings with 
the gold-headed cane.” 

‘ ‘ That’s J udge Hildreth. He’s another deep 
one or I lose my guess. ’ ’ 

“Why, he’s a Ho. 1 deacon in one of the 
uptown’s swellest churches!” 

“ Guess he’s a child of darkness in between 
times then, for I’ll bet he does lots of under- 
ground work. I don’t believe in this awfully 
private business. The other day, after old man 
Hildreth came, before the directors had their 
meeting, (he always does come just before that, 
to prime Peters, you know,) what did he do 
but make Peters send for me to shut the tran- 
soms over his office doors, so that none of us 
fellows outside could hear what they were say- 
ing! 

“ I tell you I don’t like the looks of things. 
This morning one of those heavy stockholders 
came in and wanted to take out all his money, 
and the president went white as a sheet. There’ s 
a flaw in the ready money account somewhere, 


218 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


I’ll bet, and I’m going to leave before the 
bottom drops out of the concern. If you take 
my advice you’ll follow.” 

The other boy laughed. ‘‘Bet your life I 
won’t, then. Where’ d you get such good pay, 
I’d like to know? I’ve had enough of grub- 
bing along on $4.00 a week. No, sirree. I’ll 
keep in tow with the deacon and get my share 
of all the stuff that’s going, same as the other 
fellows do.” 

“ You won’t do it long then, you mark my 
words. Did you see the president when he 
came into the office this morning? He looked 
as if he’d been gagged. I went into his office 
for something in a hurry afterwards and he 
was head over ears in Railway Time Tables. 
He jumped as if he’d been caught poaching. 
It’s my belief he means to skip across the border. 
It’s the only way for him to get out of the mess, 
unless he takes a dose of lead, you see. 

“Well, here goes. I’m going to write my 
resignation with the president’s best gold pen. 
You can do as you like, but it’s slow and honest 
forme.” 


CHAPTEE XIX. 


Miss Diana Chillingworth was sitting in 
the old-fashioned porch of her old-fashioned 
house which opened into an old-fashioned gar- 
den in one of the suburbs of Marlborough, 
shelling peas. Everything about Miss Diana 
was old-fashioned and sweet. Her hair was 
dressed as she had been accustomed to wear it 
in her girlhood, and even the head mantua- 
maker of Marlborough, ardent worshiper at 
Fashion’s shrine though she was, was forced to 
bow before her gentle individuality and confess 
that Miss Diana’s taste was perfect. 

She wore a morning dress of soft pearl grey, 
over which she had tied an apron of white lawn 
with a dainty ruffle of embroidery below its 
hem. The peas danced merrily against the 
sides of an old-fashioned china bowl. Miss 
Diana had an aesthetic repugnance to the use 
of tin utensils in the preparation of food. 

Outside there were sw^et lilies of the valley 
and violets and pansies, and the roses wafted 
long breaths of fragrance to her through the 
219 


220 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


trellis work of the porch, while the morning 
glories hung their heads and blushed under the 
ardent kisses of the sun. 

In the kitchen Una vella Cynthesia Crockett, 
her faithful and devoted “assistant” (Miss 
Crockett objected to the term servant upon 
democratic principles), moved cheerily, with a 
giant masterfulness which bespoke a success- 
ful initiation into the mysteries of the culinary 
art. All at once she shut the oven door, where 
three toothsome loaves were browning, and 
listened intently. Then she went out to inter- 
view Thomas, the butcher’s boy, who came 
three times a week with supplies. 

“The sweet-breads hez cum. Miss Di-an,” 
she said, appearing in the porch before her 
mistress. 

“ Well, Una vella,” said Miss Diana, with a 
pleasant smile, ‘ ‘ you expected them, did you 
not? We ordered them, you know. They are 
very nutritious, I think. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Hum ! There’s some news cum along with 
’em that ain’t likely to prove ez nourishin’. 
Tummas sez the Provident Savings Company 
hez busted an’ the president’s vamoosed.” 

‘ ‘ Dear me ! I wish Thomas would not use 
such very forceful language, ’ ’ said Miss Diana. 
“Do you think he finds it necessary? Being 
a butcher, you know? I hardly understand 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


221 


the words. Do you think you would find them 
defined in Webster?” 

IJnavella’s eyes twinkled through her gloom. 
“I guess Tummas ain’t got much use for dic- 
tionners,” she said. “He uses words that 
cums nearest to his feelin’s. He’s lost two 
hundred dollars, Tummas hez. ’ ’ 

“Dear me! How very grieved I am. But 
a dictionary, Unavella, is the basis of all 
education. Thomas ought to appreciate that. 
‘ Busted,’ ” she repeated the word slowly, with 
an instinctive shrinking from its sound, ‘ ‘ that 
is a vulgar corruption of the verb to burst ; but 
‘vamoosed,’ I do not think I ever heard the 
term before. ’ ’ 

“ Tummas says it means to show the under 
side of your shoe leather. ’ ’ 

“ The under side of your shoe leather, IJna- 
vella?” Miss Diana lifted her pretty shoe and 
held it up for inspection. “Do you see any- 
thing wrong with that?” 

The faithful soul threw her apron over her 
head with a sob. “Oh, Miss Di-an!” she 
wailed, “it means the company’s all a set of 
cheats, an’ the biggest rogue of the lot hez lit 
out — run away — an’ taken the money the 
Gin’rel left you along with him.” 


CHAPTER XX. 


Miss Diana received the news in absolute 
silence. The brave daughter of a brave father, 
she would make no moan, but the sweetness 
seemed to have suddenly gone from the flowers 
and the light out of the sky. 

Unavella looked at her in amazement. She 
was used to the stormy grief which finds vent 
in tears and groans. ‘ ‘ It beats me how differ- 
ent folks takes things!” she ejaculated men- 
tally. “Well, she’ll need suthin’ to keep her 
strength up all the more now she ain’t got 
nuthin’ to support her;” and, gathering peas 
and pods into her apron with a mighty sweep 
of her arm, she marched into her kitchen in a 
fever of sympathetic indignation and evolved 
a dinner which was a masterpiece of culinarv 
skill. 

Miss Diana forced herself to eat something. 
She knew if she did not, Unavella would be 
worried, and she possessed that peculiar regard 
for the feelings of others which would not allow 
her to consider her own. 

222 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


223 


‘‘You are a wonderful cook, Unavella,” she 
said, with a pathetic cheerfulness which did 
not deceive her faithful handmaiden, who, as 
she confided afterwards to a friend, wuz weepin’ 
bitter gall tears in her mind, though she kep’ 
a calm front outside, for she wuzn’t goin’ ter 
be outdid in pluck by that little bit of sweet- 
ness. ‘ ‘ I shall be able to give you a beautiful 
character. ’ ’ 

She lifted her hand with a deprecating ges- 
ture as Unavella was about to burst forth with 
a stormy denial. 

“Not yet, please, Unavella; not just yet. 
Let me have time to think a little before you 
say anything. I feel rather shaken. The 
news was so very unexpected, you see,” she 
said with a shadowy smile, which Unavella 
averred ‘ ‘ cut her heart clean in two. ” “ But 

everything is just right, Unavella, that happens 
to the Lord’s children, you know. Things 
look a little misty now, but I shall see the sun- 
light again by and bye. In the meantime there 
is this delicious dinner. Someone ought to be 
reaping the benefit of it. Suppose you take it 
to poor Mrs. Dixon? She enjoys anything 
tasty so much and she cannot afford to buy 
dainties for herself. ’ ’ Miss Diana would never 
learn the economy which is content to be com- 
fortable while a neighbor is in need. “And, 


224 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


Unavella, if you please, you might say I am 
not receiving callers this afternoon. I am 
afraid it is not very hospitable, but I feel as if 
I must be alone. This has been rather a sud- 
den shock to me.” 

“You, you — angul!” exclaimed Unavella, 
as soon as she had regained the privacy of her 
kitchen, while a briny crystal of genuine af- 
fection rolled down her cheek and splashed 
unceremoniously into the gravy. 

Up-stairs in her pretty chamber Miss Diana 
sat and thought. Euin and starvation. Was 
that what it meant? She had seen the words 
in print often but they seemed different now. 
Euin meant a giving up and going out, while 
the auctioneer’s hammer smote upon one’s 
heart with cruel blows, and one could not see 
to say farewell because one’s eyes were full of 
tears. It would not be starvation — of the 
body. She must be thankful for that. The 
house and grounds were in a good locality and 
she had refused several handsome offers for 
them during the past year. 

She caught her breath a little as she thought 
of the wide stretching field where her dainty 
Jersey was feeding, with its cluster of trees in 
one corner, under which a brook babbled joy- 
ously as it danced on its way to the river; the 
pretty barn with its pigeon-house where her 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


225 


snow-white fantails craned their imperious 
heads ; the wide porch with its flower drapery, 
where she sat and read or worked with her 
pet spaniel at her feet, and where her friends 
loved to gather through the summer afternoons 
and chat over the early supper before they 
went back to the city’s grime and stir. 

Then in thought she entered the house. 
The room which had been her father’s and the 
library which held his books. Could she sell 
those! She shivered, as in imagination she 
heard the careless inventory of the auctioneer. 
She had never attended an auction except once, 
and then she had hurried away, for it seemed 
to her the pictured faces were misty with tears 
and she fancied the draperies sighed, as they 
waved in the wind which swept through the 
gaping windows. There were the engravings 
which she loved and the pictures her father had 
brought with him from Europe, and the rare 
old china and her mother’s silver service, and 
her store of delicate napery and household 
linen ; while every table and chair had a story 
and the very walls of each room were dear. 
Had she been making idols of these things in 
her heart? 

Miss Diana knelt beside the couch, comfort- 
able as only old-fashioned couches know how 
to be. “Dear Christ,” she cried, “I am 

15 


226 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


thy follower and I have gone shod with 
velvet while thy feet were travel-stained, and 
I have slept upon eider-down while thou 
hadst not where to lay thine head!” 

She knelt on, motionless, until the twilight 
fell and the stars began to peep out in the sky. 
Then she went down-stairs and there was a 
strange, exalted look upon her sweet face. 

“Unavella,” she cried softly, “I have 
found the sunlight, for I can say ‘ The Lord 
gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed 
be the name of the Lord. ’ ’ ’ 

“Oh, Miss Di — an!” wailed Unavella, “I 
b’lieve you’re goin’ ter die an’ be an angul 
afore the moon changes ! ’ ’ 


Miss Diana had been to see her lawyer and 
he had confirmed her decision. Her income 
was gone. With the exception of a couple 
of hundred dollars, coming to her from a dif- 
ferent source, she was penniless. There was 
nothing left her but to sell. 

When she reached home that night she 
looked very white and weary, but her smile 
was all the sweeter because of the unshed 
tears. Unavella had spread her supper in the 
porch. She ate but little, however. “I am 
sorry I cannot do more justice to your skill. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


227 


Unavella,” she said with her gentle courtesy, 
“ but I do not seem to feel hungry lately.” 

“It’s that li-yar!” muttered Unavella 
grimly, as she cleared the things away. “I 
never knowed a li-yar yit that didn’t scare all 
the appetite away from a body. ’ ’ 

When her work was finished she came back 
to the porch where Miss Diana was sitting 
very still in the moonlight. “Miss Di-an!” 
she exclaimed impetuously, “don’t you go fer 
to be thinkin’ of sellin’ ! I’ve got a plan that 
beats the li-yar’ s all holler, ef he duz wear a 
wig. ’ ’ 

“Sit down, Unavella,” said her mistress 
kindly, ‘ ‘ and tell me what it is. ’ ’ 

“ Well, I haven’t said nuthin’ to you before, 
’cause I knowed it would only hurt you ef I 
wuzto let my feelin’s loose about them thievin’ 
rapscallions that dared to lay their cheatin’ 
hands on the money the Gin’rel left ye ; but 
I’ve been a thinkin’ — stiddy — an’ while you 
wuz cornin’ to your decision above I wuz 
cornin’ to mine below, an’ now we’ll toss ’em 
up fer luck, an’ see which wins, ef you air 
willin’.” 

Miss Diana smiled. “ WeU, Unavella, ’ ’ she 
said. 

“You decide ter leave yer hum, with aU 
there is to it, an’ me inter the bargain, an’ go 


228 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


ter board with folks what don’t know yer 
likins nor understan’ yer feelin’s, an’ the end 
on it’ll be that you’ll Jest wilt away wuss than 
a mornin’ glory. I never did think folks 
sarved the Lord by dyin’ afore their time 
comes. 

“ I decide to hev you keep yer hum, an’ the 
things in it, an’ me too. The hull on it is. 
Miss Di-an, I wonH be and Unavella 

buried her face in her hands and sobbed aloud. 

‘‘You dear Unavella!” Miss Diana laid 
her soft hand upon the toil-roughened ones. 
“If you only knew how I dread the thought 
of leaving you! But what else is there for 
me to do?” 

‘ ‘ Gentlemen boarders, ’ ’ was the terse reply. 

‘ ‘ Gentlemen boarders ! ’ ’ echoed Miss Diana 
in bewilderment. 

“Yes. You catch ’em, an’ I’ll cook ’em. 
We’ll begin with two ter see how they eat, an 
ef we find it don’t cost too much ter fatten 
’em up, we’ll go inter the bizness reglar;” 
after making which cannibalistic proposition 
Unavella looked to her mistress for approval. 

“Why, Unavella,” said Miss Diana, after 
the first shock of surprise was over, ‘ ‘ I never 
even dreamed of such a thing ! It might be 
possible, if you are willing to undertake it, it 
is very good of you. But we will not make 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


229 


any plans, Unavella, until I talk it over with 
the Lord. If his smile rests upon it, your, 
kindly thought for me will succeed ; if not, it 
would be sure to fail. I must have his ap- 
proval first of all. ’ ’ 

She rose as she spoke and bade her a gentle 
good-night, and Unavella walked slowly back 
to her kitchen again. “Ef the angul Ga- 
briel,’’ she soliloquized, “starts in ter searchin’ 
the earth this night fer the Lord’s chosen 
ones, there ain’t no fear but what he’ll cum 
ter this house, the fust thing. ’ ’ 

Up-stairs Miss Diana was whispering softly, 
as she looked up at the stars with a trustful 
smile. “ Oh, my Father, if it is thy will that 
I should do this thing, thou wilt send me the 
right ones,” 


CHAPTEE XXL 


John Eandolph did some hard thinking 
during the weeks which followed Eichard 
Trueman’s death. It was no light task which 
he had so cheerfully imposed upon himself. 
The boy was constitutionally delicate and 
fretted so constantly after his father that his 
health began to suffer, and it grew to be a very 
pale face which welcomed John with a smile 
when he returned from the office. The style 
of living was bad for him. He was alone all 
day, except for an occasional visit from the 
good-natured German woman who kejDt their 
rooms, and, although he was a voracious 
reader, the doctor had forbidden all thought of 
study for a year, even had there been a school 
near enough for him to attend, where John 
would have been willing to send him. He 
ought to be where the air was pure and the 
surroundings cheerful. John would have pre- 
ferred to put up with the discomfort of his 
present quarters and lay by the addition to 
his salary towards the more speedy realization 
230 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


231 


of his day-dream, but John Eandolph had 
never found much time to think of himself ; 
there were always so many other people in 
the world to be attended to. 

“Dick, my boy,” he said cheerily one 
evening, after they had finished what he pro- 
nounced a sumptuous repast, ‘ ‘ I have a pre- 
sentiment that this month will witness a 
turning point in our career. I believe you 
and I are going to become suburbanites.” 

The boy’s sad eyes grew wide with wonder. 

“What do you mean, John?” 

“Well you see, Dick True, it is this way. 
As soon as I get my degree — earn the right to 
put M. D. after my name, you know, — I am 
going to take two rubber bags, fill one with 
sunshine and one with pure air, full of the 
scent of rose leaves and clover and straw- 
berries — ah, Dick, you’d like to smell that, 
wouldn’t you? — and carry one in each pocket; 
then, when my patients come to me for ad- 
vice, the first dose I shall give them will be 
out of my rubber bags, and in six cases out of 
ten I believe they’ll get better without any 
drug at all. You see, Dick True, the trouble 
is, our Father has given us a whole world full 
of air and sunlight to be happy in, and we 
poison the air with smoke and shut ourselves 
away from the sunshine in boxes of brick and 


232 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


mortar, only letting a stray beam come in 
occasionally through slits in the walls which 
we call windows. It’s no Avonder we are such 
poor, miserable concerns. You can’t fancy an 
Indian suffering from nervous prostration, can 
you, Dick? and it doesn’t strike you as prob- 
able that Kobinson Crusoe had any predisposi- 
tion to lung trouble? So you see, Dick True, 
as it is a poor doctor who is afraid of his own 
medicine, I am going to prescribe it first of all 
for ourselves, and we AviU go where unadulter- 
ated oxygen may be had for the smelling, and 
we can draw in sunshine with every breath. ’ ’ 

The pale face brightened. 

“Oh, that will be lovely! I do get so 
tired of these old streets. But John, — ” 

“Well, Dick?” 

“Why do you keep calling me Dick True 
all the time?” 

John laughed. “Just to remind you that 
you must be a true boy before you can really 
be a True-man, Dick. I want you to be in 
the best company. Jesus Christ is the truth, 
you know, Dick.” 

“Jesus Christ,” repeated the boy thought- 
fully. “ I Avish I kneAV him, John, as Avell as 
you do.” 

“If you love, you will knoAv,” said John, 
with the light which the boy loved to Avatch 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 233 

creeping into his eyes. ‘‘ He is the best friend 
we will ever have, Dick, you and I. ’ ’ 

He opened several papers as he spoke and 
ran his eyes over the advertising columns. 
‘‘H’m, I don’t like the sound of these,” he 
said, “they promise too much. Hot and cold 
water baths and gas and the advantages of a 
private family and city privileges. Everyone 
seems to keep the ‘best table in the city.’ 
That’s curious, isn’t it, Dick? And nearly 
everyone has the most convenient location. 
Dick, my boy, it’s one thing to say we are 
going to do a thing, it’s another thing to do 
it. I expect this suburban question is going 
to be a puzzle to you and me. ’ ’ 

And so it proved. Day after day John 
searched the papers in vain, until it seemed as 
if a suburban residence was the one thing in 
life unattainable. But the long lane of disap- 
pointment had its turning at length, and he 
hurried home to Dick, paper in hand. 

“Dick, Dick True, we’ve found it at last! 
Listen : 

“ Two gentlemen can be pleasantly accom- 
modated at ‘The Willows.’ Address Miss 
Chilling worth. University P. O. Box 123. 

“ The University Post Office is just near the 
College, you know, Dick, so it is in a good 
location. Two gentlemen — that means you 


234 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


and me, Dick ; and ‘ The Willows ’ means 
running brooks, or ought to, if they are any 
sort of respectable trees.” 

The boy clapped his hands. “ When can we 
go, John?” 

John laughed. ‘‘ ITot so fast, Dick. There 
may be other gentlemen in Marlborough on the 
lookout for a suburban residence. I addressed 
Miss Chillingworth on paper this morning, 
telling her I should give myself the pleasure of 
addressing her in person to-morrow. It is a 
half holiday, you know, Dick. I like the ring 
of this advertisement. There is no fuss and 
feathers about it. She doesn’t offer city priv- 
ileges and promise ice cream with every meal.” 

“ But, John,” said the boy, ruefully, “we’re 
not gentlemen. You don’t wear a silk hat, 
you know, and I have no white shirts — nothing 
but these paper fronts. I hate paper fronts ! 
They’re such shams ! 

“ Oh, ho! Dick, so you’re pining for frills, 
eh? Well, if it will make you feel more com- 
fortable, we’ll go down to Stewart’s and get 
fitted out to your satisfaction. But don’t for- 
get that you can be a gentleman in homespun 
as well as broadcloth, Dick. Keal diamonds 
don’t need to borrow any luster from their set- 
ting ; only the paste do that. ’ ’ 

The next afternoon John strode along in the 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


235 


direction of ‘ The Willows ’ to the accompani- 
ment of a merry whistle. It did him good to 
get out into the open country once more, and 
he felt sure it would be worth a king’s ransom 
to Dick ; but when he came in sight of the 
house he hesitated. There must be some mis- 
take. This was not the sort of house to open 
its doors to boarders. ‘ ‘ Poor Dick ! ” he solil- 
oquized, ‘ ‘ no wonder you felt a premonitory 
sense of the fitness of frills ! Well, I’ll go and 
inquire. They can only say ‘No,’ and that 
won’t annihilate me.” 

He was ushered into Miss Diana’s presence, 
and on the instant forgot everything but Miss 
Diana herself. Before he realized what he was 
doing he had explained the reason of his seek- 
ing a suburban home, and, drawn on by her 
gentle sympathy, was telling her the story of 
his life. Miss Diana had a way of compelling 
confidence, and the people who gave it to her 
never afterwards regretted the gift. With the 
straightforwardness which was a part of his 
nature he told his story. It never occurred to 
him that there was anything peculiar about it, 
yet when he had finished there were tears in 
his listener’s eyes. 

. When at length he rose to go, everything was 
settled between them. John’s eyes wandered 
round the room and then rested again with a 


236 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


curious sense of pleasure upon Miss Diana’s 
face. 

‘‘I cannot begin to thank you,” he said, 
gratefully, “for allowing us to come here. I 
never dared to hope that my poor little Dick 
would have such an education as this home will 
be to him, but I feel sure you will learn to like 
Dick True.” 

Miss Diana held out her hand, with a smile. 

‘ ‘ I think I shall like you as well as Dick, ’ ’ 
she said. 

Weeks and months flew past and the house- 
hold at ‘ The Willows ’ was a very happy one. 
Unavella was in great glee over the success of 
her scheme. 

“I used ter think,” she conflded to her 
bosom friend, “thet boarders wuz good fer 
nuthin’ ’cept ter be an aggervation an’, a plague ; 
but I couldn’t think o’ nuthin’ else ter do, an’ 
I made up my mind I’d ruther put up with ’em 
than lose Miss Di-an, even ef their antics did 
make me gray-headed afore the year wuz out. 
But I needn’t hev worritted. Two sech obligin’ 
young fellers I never did see, an’ never expect 
ter agin in this world. They don’t never seem 
comfortable ’cept when they’re helpin’ a body. 
An’ Mr. John’s whistle ez enuff ter put sun- 
shine inter the Deluge ! I used ter think we 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


237 


■wuz ez happy ez birds — Miss Di-an an’ me — 
but I declare the house seems lonesum now 
when he leaves in the mornin’. He’s alluz at 
it, whistle, whistle, whistle. ’Tain’t none o’ 
them screechin’ whistles that takes the top off 
of your head an’ leaves the inside a’ hummin’, 
but it’s jest as soft an’ sweet an’ low ! Some- 
times I think he’s prayin’, it’s that lovely. 
It’s my belief it puts Miss Di-an in mind o’ 
someone, fer she jest sets in the porch, when 
he’s a’ tinkerin’ round in the evenings or dig- 
gin’ in the gardin — he’s never satisfied unless 
everything’s jest kep spick an’ span — an’ there’s 
the sweetest smile on her face, an’ the dreamy 
look in her eyes thet folks’ eyes don’t never 
hev ’cept when they’re episodin’ with their 
past. 

‘ ‘ An’ the way they foUer her about an’ 
treat her jest ez ef she wuz a princess ! I de- 
clare, it makes my heart warm. The young 
one called her his little mother the other night, 
an’ Mr. John sez, sez he, “Ye couldn’t hev a 
sweeter, Dick, nor a dearer.” He makes me 
think of one o’ them folks in poetry what wuz 
alluz a’ ridin’ round with banners an’ a spear. ’ ’ 

“A knight?” suggested her friend, who had 
just indulged a literary taste by purchasing a 
paper covered edition of Sir Walter Scott. 

“Yes, that’s what I mean. An’ I sez to 


238 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


myself, — ’ef they wuz like he is, an’ wuz ez 
plenty in the Middle Ages ez they make ’em 
out ter be, then it’s a pity we wuzn’t back right 
in the center uv ’em,’ sez I.” 

‘ ‘ Lady Di ! Lady Di ! ” and little Dick came 
hurrying into the library where Miss Diana 
was sitting in the gloaming. “John wants 
you to come out and see if you like the new 
flowers he is planting. He says I must be sure 
to put your shawl on, for the dew is falling. ’ ’ 

Miss Diana’s eyes grew misty as her little 
cavalier adjusted her wrap. “Why do you 
give me that name, Dick?” she asked. Only 
one other had ever given it to her before, in 
the long ago. 

“What? Lady Di?” answered the boy. 
“Oh, we always call you that, John and I. 
Our Lady Di. John says you make him think 
of the elect lady, in the Bible, you know.” 

And Miss Diana, as she passed the shelves, 
laid her hand caressingly upon the beloved 
books with a happy smile. God had sent her 
the right ones 1 


CHAPTEE XXII. 


Marion entered Evadne’s room one glori- 
ous winter’s morning and threw herself on 
the lounge beside her cousin with a sigh. 

“ I don’t see how you do it ! ” she exclaimed. 

“Do what?” asked Evadne. 

“ Why, keep so pleasant with Isabelle. She 
works me up to the last pitch of endurance, 
until I feel sometimes as if I should go wild. 
It is no use saying anything. Mamma always 
takes her side, you know, but she does aggra- 
vate me so ! Even her movements irritate me, 
— just the way she shakes her head and curls 
her lip, — she is so self-satisfied. She thinks 
no one else knows anything. It must be a 
puzzle to her how the world ever got along be- 
fore she came into it, and what it will do when 
she leaves it is a mystery!” 

‘ ‘ She is good discipline. ’ ’ 

Marion gave her an impetuous hug. “You 
dear Evadne! I believe you take us all as 
that ! But I don’t think the rest of us can be 
quite as trying as Isabelle. She does seem to 
delight in saying such horrid things. She was 
289 


240 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


abominably rude to you this morning at break- 
fast and yet you were just as polite as ever. I 
couldn’t have done it. I should have sulked 
for a week. I know you feel it, for I see your 
lips quiver — you are as susceptible to a rude 
touch as a sensitive plant — but it is beautiful 
to be able to keep sweet outside.” 

“You mean to be Tcept^ Marion, ’ ’ said Evad ne 
softly, “by the power of God. I have no 
strength of my own.” 

Marion sighed dismally. “Oh, dear! I 
don’t know what I mean, except that I’m a 
failure. It is no wonder Louis thinks Chris- 
tianity is a humbug, though he mu^t confess 
there is something in it when he looks at you. 
You are so different, Evadne ! I should think 
Isabelle would be ashamed of herself, for I be- 
lieve half the time she says things on purpose 
to provoke you. She doesn’t seem to get much 
comfort out of it any way. I never saw such 
a discontented mortal. Don’t you think it is 
wicked for people to grumble the way she does, 
Evadne? It is growing on her, too. She finds 
fault with everything. Even the snow came 
in for a share of her disapprobation this morn- 
ing, because it would spoil the skating, as if 
the Lord had no other plans to further than 
just to give her an afternoon’s amusement! 
She is so self-centered!” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 241 

Evadne looked out at the street where the 
fresh fallen snow had spread a dazzling carpet 
of virgin white. ‘ ‘ He is going to let me give 
an afternoon’s amusement to Gretchen and 
little Hans,” she said. “Uncle Lawrence has 
promised me the sleigh and I am going to take 
them to the Park. Won’t it be beautiful to 
see them enjoy! Hans has never seen the 
trees after a snowstorm.” 

‘ ‘ That is you all over, Evadne. It is always 
other people’s pleasure, while I think of my 
own ! Oh, dear I I seem to do nothing but 
get savage and then sigh over it. I know it is 
dreadful to talk about my own sister as I have 
been doing — they say you ought to hide the 
faults of your relations — but it is only to you, 
you know. Do you suppose there is any hope 
for me, Evadne?” she asked disconsolately. 

Evadne drew her head down until it was 
on a level with her own. “ Let Christ teach 
you to love, dear,” she whispered, “Then, 
‘charity will cover the multitude of sins.’” 
She opened the book she had been reading 
when her cousin entered and took from it a 
newspaper clipping. “Kead this,” she said. 
‘ ‘ Aunt Marthe sent it in her last letter. If 
we follow its teachings I think all the fret and 
worry will go out of our lives for good.” 

And Marion read, — “To step out of seK- 

i6 


24:2 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


life into Christ-life, to lie still and let him lift 
you out of it, to fold your hands close and 
hide your face upon the hem of his robe, to let 
him lay his cooling, soothing, healing hands 
upon your soul, and draw all the hurry and 
fever away, to realize that you are not a 
mighty messenger, an important worker of 
his, full of care and responsibility, but only a 
little child with a Father’s gentle bidding to 
heed and fulfil, to lay your busy plans and 
ambitions confidently in his hands, as the child 
brings its broken toys at its mother’s call; to 
serve him by waiting, to praise him by saying 
‘ Holy, holy, holy, ’ a single note of praise, as 
do the seraphim of the heavens if that be his 
will, to cease to live in self and for self and 
to live in him and for him, to love his honor 
more than your own, to be a clear and facile 
medium for his life-tide to shine and glow 
through — this is consecration and this is 
rest.” 

When, some hours later, Evadne went 
down-stairs to luncheon, she felt strangely 
happy. Marion had said Louis must confess 
there was something in Christianity when he 
looked at her. That was what she longed to 
do — ^to prove to him the reality of the religion 
of Jesus. And that afternoon she was going 
to give such a pleasure to Gretchen and little 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


243 


Hans. It was beautiful to be able to give 
pleasure to people. She could just fancy how 
Gretchen’s eyes would glisten as she talked 
to her in her mother tongue, while little 
Hans’ shyness would vanish under the genial 
influence of Pompey’s sympathetic companion- 
ship, and he would clap his hands with delight 
as Brutus and Cassar drew them under the 
arches of evergreen beauty, bending low 
beneath their ermine robes, while the silver 
beUs broke the hush of silence which dwelt 
among the forest halls with a subdued melody 
and then rang out joyously as they emerged 
into the open, where the sun shone bright and 
clothed denuded twigs and trees in the be- 
witching beauty of a silver thaw. It would 
always seem to little Hans like a dream of 
fairyland and she would be remembered as his 
fairy godmother. It was a pleasant role — 
that of a fairy godmother. 

She started, for Louis was saying carelessly 
to the servant, — “Tell Pompey to have the 
sleigh ready by half-past two, sharp.” 

“ Why, Louis!” she spoke as if in a dream, 
‘ ‘ I am going to have the sleigh this after- 
noon. ’ ’ 

“That is unfortunate, coz,” said Louis 
lightly, “as probably we are going in differ- 
ent directions.” 


24A 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


I am going to the Park,” stammered 
Evadne, ‘‘ with little Hans and Gretchen.” 

“Exactly, and I to the Club grounds. Dia- 
metrically opposite, you see. ’ ’ 

“But Uncle Lawrence promised me. He 
said no one wanted the sleigh this afternoon.” 

The Judge should not allow himself to jump 
at such hasty conclusions before hearing the 
decision of the Foreman of the Jury. It is an 
unwise procedure for his Lordship. ’ ’ 

“But poor little Hans will be so disap- 
pointed ! He has been looking forward to it 
for weeks. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Disappointed ! My dear coz, the placid 
Teutonic mind is impervious to anything so 
unphilosophical. It will teach him the truth 
of the adage that ‘ there is many a slip ’twixt 
the cup and the lip,’ and in the future he will 
not be so foolish as to look forward to any- 
thing. ’ ’ 

Evadne’ s lips quivered. “You are cruel,” 
she said, ‘ ‘ to shut out the sunlight from a poor 
little crippled child ! ’ ’ 

“ My dear coz, I give you my word of 
honor, I am sorry. But there is nothing to 
make a fuss about. Any other day will suit 
your little beggar just as well. I promised 
some of the fellows to drive them out and a 
Hildreth cannot break his word, you know.” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY^ 


245 


‘^You have made me break mine,” said 
Evadne sadly, as she passed him to go upstairs. 

“Ah, you are a woman,” said Louis coolly, 
“that alters everything.” 

Did it alter everything? Evadne was pac- 
ing her floor with flashing eyes. “Was there 
one rule of honor for Louis, another for herself? 
No! no! no! How perfectly hateful he is!” 
and she stamped her foot with sudden passion. 
“ I despise him!” 

Suddenly she fell on her knees beside the 
lounge and cowered among its cushions, while 
the eyes of the Christ, reproachfully tender, 
seemed to pierce her very soul. ‘ ‘ Love your 
enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to 
them that hate you, and pray for them which 
despitefuUy use you and persecute you, — that 
ye may be the children of your Father in heaven, 
for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and 
on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and 
on the unjust.” 

His sorrowful tones seemed to crush her into 
the earth. Was this her Christ-likeness? And 
she had let Marion say she was better than 
them all ! What if she or Louis were to see 
her now? He would say again, as he had said 
before, ‘ ‘ There is not much of the ‘ meek and 
lowly’ in evidence at present.” “And he 
would be right,” she cried remorsefully. 


246 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


Oh, Jesus Christ, is this the way I am fol- 
lowing thee!” 

“You do right to feel annoyed,” argued 
self. “ It hurts you to disappoint Gretchen 
and Hans.” 

“It is your own pride that is hurt,” an- 
swered her inexorable conscience. “You 
wanted to pose as a Lady Bountiful. It is 
humiliating to let these poor people see that 
you are of no consequence in your uncle’s 
house. Christ kept no carriage. It is not 
what you do but what you are, that proves 
your kinship with the Lord.” 

It was a very humble Evadne who, late in 
the afternoon, walked slowly towards the Ger- 
man quarter. “I am very sorry,” she said 
quietly, when she had reached the spotless 
rooms where Gretchen made a home for her 
crippled brother, “my cousin had made ar- 
rangements to use the sleigh this afternoon, so 
we coiild not have our drive. I am very 
sorry.” 

And they put their own disappointment out 
of sight, these kindly German folk, and tried 
to make her think they cared as little as if they 
were used to driving every day. 

“Did you notice, Gretchen,” said Hans, 
after Evadne had left them, “how sweet our 
Fraulein was this afternoon? But her eyes^ 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 247 

looked as if she had been crying. Do you sup- 
pose she had?” 

“ I think, Hans,” said Gretchen slowly, 
‘‘ our Fraulein is learning to dwell where God 
wipes all the tears away. ’ ’ 

“ Are your eyes no better, Frau Himmel?” 
Evadne Avas saying as she shook hands with 
another friend who was patiently learning the 
bitter truth that she w^ould never be able to 
see her beloved Fatherland again. “ Are the 
doctors quite sure that nothing can be done? ” 
“Quite sure, Fraulein Hildreth,” answered 
the woman with a smile, “but there is one 
glorious hope they can’t take from me.” 

“ A hope, Frau Himmel, when you are 
blind ! "What can it be?” 

“ This, dear Fraulein,” and the look on the 
patient face was beautiful to see. ‘ ‘ ‘ Thine 
eyes shall see the King in his beauty; they 
shall behold the land that is very far off.’ ” 
And Evadne, walking homeward, repeated 
the words which she had read that morning 
with but a dim perception of their meaning. 
‘ If limitation is power that shall be, if calami- 
ties, opposition and vreights are wings and 
means — we are reconciler),’ 


CHAPTEK XXIII. 


‘‘ Uncle Lawkence, with your permission, I 
am going to study to be a nurse. ’ ’ 

I Judge Hildreth started. So light had been 
the footsteps and so deeply had he been ab- 
sorbed in thought, he had not heard his niece 
enter the library and cross the room until she 
stood before his desk. Yery fair was the pic- 
ture which his eyes rested upon. What made 
his brows contract as if something hurt him in 
the sight? 

Evadne Hildreth was in all the sweetness of 
her young womanhood. She was not beauti- 
ful, not even pretty, Isabelle said, but there 
was a strange fascination about her earnest 
face, and the wonderful grey eyes possessed a 
charm that was all their own. She had 
graduated with honors. Now she stood upon 
the threshold of the unknown, holding her life 
in her hands. 

Louis was traveling in Europe. Isabelle 
and Marion were at a fashionable French Con- 
servatory, for the perfecting of their Parisian 
248 


A BEAUTIFZfL POSSIBILITY. 


249 

accent. Evadne was alone. She had chosen 
to have it so. She wanted to follow up a 
special course in physiology which was her 
favorite study. 

“A nurse, Evadne! My dear, you are be- 
side yourself. ‘ Much learning hath made you 
mad.’ ” 

“ ‘ I am not mad, most noble Festus, but 
speak the words of truth and soberness. ’ I 
feel called to do this thing.” 

“ Who has called you, pray? We do not 
deal in supernaturalisms in this prosaic cen- 
tury. ’ ’ 

The lovely eyes glowed. “Jesus Christ.” 
What an exultant ring there was in her voice, 
and how tenderly she lingered over the name ! 

“Jesus Christ!” Judge Hildreth repeated 
the words in an awestruck tone. Did she see 
him cower in his chair? Itihust have been an 
optical illusion. The storm outside was mak- 
ing the house shiver and the lights dance. 

“ You must consult your aunt,” he said in 
a changed voice. She noticed with a paiig how 
old and careworn he looked. 

“Kate,” he called, as just then he heard 
his wife’s step in the hall, “ come here.” 

“ What do you wish, Lawrence?” and there 
was a soft froxbfrouol silken draperies as Mrs. 
Hildreth’s dress swept over the carpet. 


250 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


‘‘ Evadne wishes to become a nurse.” 

Are you crazy?” There was a steely glit- 
ter in Mrs. Hildreth’s eyes, and her tone fell 
cold and measured through the room. 

“She says not,” said the Judge with a 
feeble smile. 

“Why should you think so. Aunt Kate?” 
asked Evadne gently. “ Look how the world 
honors Florence Nightingale, and think how 
many splendid women have followed her ex- 
ample.” 

“ To earn your own living by the labor of 
your hands. A Hildreth ! ’ ’ 

“ All the people who amount to anything in 
the world have to w^ork. Aunt Kate. There is 
nothing degrading in it.” 

“Just try it and you will soon find out your 
mistake. If you do this thing you will be 
ostracized by the world. People make a great 
talk about the dignity of labor, but a girl who 
works has no footing in polite society. ’ ’ 

Evadne’ s sweet laugh fell softly through the 
silence. “ I don’t believe I have any time for 
society. Aunt Kate. Life seems too real to be 
frittered away over afternoon teas. ’ ’ 

“Are you mad, Lawrence, to let her take 
this step? Think of the Hildreth honor!” 

Again Judge Hildreth laughed — that strange, 
feeble laugh. “Evadne is of age, Kate; she 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


251 


must do as she thinks right. As to the rest — 
I think the less we say about the Hildreth 
honor now the better for us all.” 

He was alone. Mrs. Hildreth had swept away 
in a storm of wrath. Evadne had followed her, 
leaving a soft kiss upon his brow. He lifted 
his hand to the place her lips had touched — he 
felt as if he had been stung — but there was no 
outward wound. 

The Hildreth honor I The letters in the 
drawer at his side seemed to confront him with 
scorn blazing from every page. He put forth 
his hand with a sudden determination. He 
would crush their impertinent obtrusiveness un- 
der his heel; then, when their damaging evi- 
dence was buried in the dust of oblivion, he 
would be safe and fret ! Evadpe knew her father 
had left her something. He would make special 
mention of it in his will — a Trust fund — enough 
to yield her maintenance and the paltry pin 
money which was all the allowance he had ever 
seen his way clear to make his brother’s child. 
It was not his fault, he argued — he had meant 
to do right — ^but gilt-edged securities were as 
waste paper in the imprecedented monetary de- 
pression which was sweeping stronger men than 
himself to the verge of ruin. He could not fore- 
see such a crisis. Even the Solons of Wall 
Street had not anticipated it. It was not his 


252 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


fault. He had meant to make all right in a 
few years. What was that they said was paved 
with good intentions? He could not remem- 
ber. He seemed to have strange fits of forget- 
fulness lately. He must see that everything was 
put in proper shape in the event of his death. 
People died suddenly sometimes. One never 
knew. 

•It would be safer to make re-investments. 
Yes, that was a good thought. He wondered 
it had never occurred to him before. His wisest 
plan was to have all moneys and securities in his 
own name. It would make it so much easier 
for the executors. It was not fair to burden 
any one with a business so involved as his was 
now. Of course he would make a mental note 
of just how much belonged to his brother. It 
would not be safe to put it in black and white — 
executors had such an unpleasant habit of going 
over one’s private papers — ^but he would be sure 
to remember, and, if he ever got out of this bog, 
as he expected to do of course shortly, he would 
give Evadne back her o^vn. It would leave him 
badly crippled for funds, but one must expect 
to make sacrifices for the sake of principle. 
Then, when these letters were destroyed, they 
would have no clue — he frowned. What an un- 
fortunate word for him to use! A clue was 
suggestive of criminality. What possible con- 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


253 


nection could ther^ be between Judge Hildreth 
and that ? 

He fitted the key in the lock and turned it, 
then his hand fell by his side. Ho, no, he had 
not come to that — ^yet. He had always held 
that tampering with the mails evinced the black- 
est turpitude. He was an honorable gentleman. 
He started. What was that? A long, low, 
blood-curdling laugh, as if a dozen mocking 
fiends stood at his elbow, — or was it just the 
shrieking of the wind among the gables? It 
was a wild night. The rain dashed against the 
window panes in sheets of vengeful fury, and 
the howling of the storm made him shudder 
as he thought of the ships at sea. How and 
then a loose slate fell from an adjoining roof and 
was shivered into atoms upon the pavement, 
while the wind swept along the street and lashed 
the branches of the trees into a panic of help- 
less, quivering rage. Could any poor beggars 
be without a shelter on such a night as this? 
How did such people live ? 

He caught himself dozing. He felt strangely 
drowsy. He straightened himself resolutely in 
his chair and drew a package of stock certifi- 
cates from one of the secret drawers of the desk. 
He would see about selling the stock and making 
re-investments to-morrow. 

It must be done, — to save the Hildreth honor. 


CHAPTEE XXIY. 


Once more the Hildreth household was 
united, if such a thing as union could be possible, 
among so many diverse elements. 

Isabelle’s chill hauteur had increased with the 
years and a peevish discontent was carving in- 
delible lines upon her face which was rapidly 
losing its delicate contour and bloom. Marion’s 
pink and white beauty was at its zenith, and the 
social attentions she was beginning to receive 
only served to render her elder sister more than 
ever irritable and envious. Louis was his old 
nonchalant self, careless and listless, with an 
ever deepening expression of ennui which was 
pitiful in one so young. His European travels 
had not improved him, in Evadne’s opinion. 

She saw but little of her cousins. They 
passed their days in pleasure, she in work ; but 
Marion, in her rare moments of reflection, as 
she thought of the strangely peaceful face of the 
young nurse, wondered sadly whether Evadne 
had not chosen the better part after all. 

“ Oh, Louis ! ” she cried one morning, and 
254 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


255 


her voice was full of pain, how you are wasting 
this beautiful life that God has given you ! ’’ 

Louis stretched himself lazily in his arm-chair 
and clasped his hands behind his head. 

Thanks for your high opinion, coz. Of what 
special crime do I stand accused before the bar 
of your judgment ? ” 

“ Oh, it is nothing special, but you are just 
frittering away the days that might be filled 
with such noble work, and you have nothing to 
show for them but — smoke ! ” She swept her 
hand through the filmy cloud which Louis just 
then blew into the air, with a gesture of disdain. 

ISTow you will think I am preaching, but in- 
deed, indeed I am not, only, it hurts me so ! ’’ 

Louis laughed and threw away his cigar. 
“ ITo, I will not charge you with belonging to 
the cloth, but I confess I should like you better 
if you had not entrenched yourself behind such 
a high wall of prejudice against all the good 
things of this life. You are too narrow, 
Evadne.’^ 

Evadne folded her hands together as if she 
were holding a strange, sweet comfort against 
her heart. The Jews said the same about 
Jesus Christ,” she said, why should the servant 
be judged more kindly than her Lord ? ” 

But there is no harm in these things, 
Evadne.” 


256 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


There is no good in them. Life is so real, 
Louis ! ” 

Well, I own I am a light weight in the race. 
But I assure you such people are needed to 
balance matters. If every one was in such 
deadly earnest as you, Evadne, the old world 
would go to pieces.” 

But, Louis, it is dreadful to have no pur- 
pose in life ! ” 

The Judge has enough of that for us both,” 
said Louis carelessly. Why should I choke 
my brains with musty law when his are charged 
to repletion ? ” 

Think how it would please Uncle Law- 
rence ! ” urged Evadne. 

True,” said Louis gravely, but that is an 
argument which will bear future considera- 
tion.” 

Oh, Louis,” and Evadne’s voice was choked 
with tears, the time may come when you would 
give the whole world to be able to please your 
father!” 

But, Evadne,” said Louis gently, a man 
must have freedom of choice in his vocation. 
My father chose the law for his profession, why 
should he rebel if I choose dilettanteism ? ” 

Because it is no profession at all. I am 
sure he would not mind what you did, if it were 
only real work.” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


257 


Oh, pshaw ! Always work, Evadne. I tell 
you I prefer to play. Miss Angel told me at 
the General’s ball last night that she liked a man 
who took his glass and smoked and did all the 
rest of the naughty things.” 

She is an angel of darkness, luring you on 
to ruin.” 

Louis shrugged his shoulders. Possibly. 
If so, she is disguised as an angel of light. She 
sings divinely.” 

So did the Sirens.” 

Louis laughed. She has promised to go for 
a sail with me to-morrow. Better come along, 
coz, and keep us off the rocks.” 

Evadne was silent. 

I like such a girl as that,” he continued. 

She has common sense and makes a fellow 
feel comfortable. These moral altitudes of 
yours are all very fine in theory, but the atmos- 
phere is too rare for me.” 

“ It is no real kindness to make you satisfied 
with your lowest. I want you to rise to your 
best. Oh, Louis, -won’t you let Christ make 
your life grand ? It would be such a happiness 
to me ! ” She laid her hand upon his shoulder. 
Louis caught it in his and drew her round in 
front of his chair. 

Do you really mean that^ little coz ? Upon 
my word, it is the strongest inducement you 

17 


258 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


could offer me. I feel half inclined to try, just 
for your sake, only you see it would involve such 
a tremendous expenditure of moral force ! ” and 
he lighted a fresh cigar. 

I do wish you would not ride such wild 
horses, Louis,” said Mrs. Hildreth, as she stood 
beside her son in the front doorway, looking dis- 
approvingly as she spoke at the horse who was 
champing his hit viciously on the sidewalk be- 
low. “ It keeps me in a perfect fever of anx- 
iety all the time.” 

Whoa, Polyphemus ! Stand still, sir ! 
Pompey, have you tightened that girth up to its 
last hole ? Better do it then. Don’t mind his 
kicking. It doesn’t hurt him. It’s just his 
way. 

My dear lady mother, if you knew what a 
pleasure it is to find something untamable 
where everything is so confoundedly slow you 
would not wonder at my fondness for the brute. 
As to your anxiety, that is ridiculous. A Hil- 
dreth has too much sense to be conquered by a 
horse and make a spectacle of himself into the 
bargain. Au revoir. Better take a dose of lav- 
ender to calm your nerves,” and Louis waved 
his hand to her with careless grace, as he gath- 
ered up the reins. 

His mother looked after him with a sigh. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


259 


“ He is so fearless ! What a splendid cavalry 
officer he would make 1 He makes me think of 
the regiment that went to the war from Marl- 
borough.’’ Her eye fell casually upon Pompey 
who was shutting the carriage gates. What a 
waste of precious lives it was to be sure, just to 
free a lot of cowardly negroes ! ” 

It was late in the afternoon when Pompey 
went up town on an errand for Judge Hildreth. 
The street was full of men and horses hurrying 
to and fro hut Pompey paid them but little at- 
tention. He was busy with his Lord. 

Hark! What was that? The sound of a 
horse’s hoofs ringing with a sharp, metallic 
clatter upon the paved street while children 
screamed and men turned white faces towards 
the sound and hurriedly sought the sidewalk. 

On they came, the horse and his rider. Louis 
pale as death, Polyphemus mad with sudden fear 
and his own ungovernable temper. The bit was 
between his teeth, his iron-shod feet were thrown 
out in vengeful fury. 

Pompey sprang forward. 

You can’t stop him ! ” shouted the men. 

It would be certain death ! ” But just beyond 
the street took a sharp turn to the right and a 
deep chasm, where extensive excavations for a 
sewer were being made, yawned hungrily. 

The horse plunged and reared. Pompey had 


260 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


canglit hold of the reins and was clinging to them 
with all his might 


Mrs. Hildreth leaned over her son in an agony 
of fear. Louis was her idol. He opened his 
eyes wearily. His cheeks were as white as the 
pillow. 

Oh, Louis ! ” she wailed, I knew that 
wretched horse would bring you to your death ! 

I am not dead yet,’’ he said, with' a shadow 
of his old mocking smile, although I have suc- 
ceeded in making a fool of myself. How is 
Pompey ? ” 

^^Pompey!” ejaculated his mother. I 
never thought of any one hut you.” 

Evadne stood in Dyce’s little room, beside the 
bed with its gay patchwork cover. The iron- 
shod hoofs had done their cruel work only too 
well! 

Pompey,” she said wistfully, dear Pom- 
pey, is the pain terrible to bear ? ” 

The faithful eyes looked up at her, the brave 
lips tried to smile. De Lord Jesus is a 
powerful help in de time of trubble, Miss 
’Vadney; I’se loanin’ on his arm.” 

Evadne repeated, as well as she could for 
tears. ‘‘ ^ Fear thou not, for I am with thee ; be 
not dismayed, for I am thy God; I will 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


261 


strengthen thee, yea, I will help thee; yea, I 
will uphold thee with the right hand of my 
righteousness.’ ” 

And Pompey answered with joyous assur- 
ance, — ^ Though I walk through the valley of 
the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for 
thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they 
comfort me.’ ” 

“ The J edge hez been here,” said Dyce with 
mournfui pride. He say he’ll never find any 
one like Pompey. He say it wuz de braves’ ting 
he ever knowed any one to do. Pie jest cry like 
a chile, de Jedge did; he say he never ’spect to 
find sech a faithful frien’ again.” 

“ De Jedge is powerful kind. Missy. He say 
he’ll look out fer Dyce ez long ez he live,” the 
husband’s voice broke. 

I don’t care nuthin’ ’bout dat ! ” and Dyce 
turned away with a choking sob ; but I’se 
proud to hev him see what kind of a man you 
is.” 

The night drew on. Ho sound was to be 
heard in the little cottage except the ticking of 
the wheezy clock, as Dyce kept her solitary vigil 
by the side of the man she loved. She knelt 
beside his pillow, and, for her sake, Pompey 
made haste to die. As the shadows of the night 
were fieeing before the heralds of the dawn, she 
saw the gTay shadow which no earthly light 


262 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


has power to chase away fall swiftly over his 
face. 

He opened his eyes and spoke in a rapturous 
whisper. Dyce ! Dyce ! I see de Lord ! ” 

The morning broke. Dyce still knelt on with 
her face buried in the pillow; the asthmatic 
clock still kept on its tireless race ; but Pompey’s 
happy spirit had forever swept beyond the 
bounds of time. 

The humble funeral was over. The Hildreth 
carriage, behind whose curtained windows sat 
Dyce and Evadne, had followed close after the 
hearse. The Judge had walked behind. 

“ So uncalled for ! ’’ Mrs. Hildreth said in an 
annoyed tone when she heard of it. Your 
father never will learn to have a proper regard 
for les convenances/^ 

Uncalled for!” ejaculated Louis. Pll 
venture to say the Judge will never have a 
chance to follow such a brave man again.” 

He sent his carriage. That was all that 
was necessary.” 

Doubtless Dyce finds that superlative honor 
a perfect panacea for her grief,” said Louis sar- 
castically. It is eminently fitting that Brutus 
and Caesar should have walked as chief mourn- 
ers for they have lost the truest friend they ever 
had.” 


CHAPTEE XXV. 


“ I’m afraid poor Evadne will be worn out 
with such constant attendance upon Louis,” said 
Marion some weeks after Pompey’s death. I 
don’t see how she stands it.” 

It is hardly worth her while to undertake 
nursing,” said Isabelle coldly, if she cannot 
stand such a trifle as this.” 

Why, Isabelle, just think of the strain night 
after night ! You wouldn’t like it, I know. I 
want Mamma to get a paid nurse, but Louis 
won’t have any one near him but Evadne.” 

Of course I could not stand being broken of 
my rest,” rejoined Isabelle, it is hard enough 
for me to get any under the most favorable cir- 
cumstances, but probably Evadne sleeps like a 
log in the daytime. It is the least return she 
can make for having disgraced the family, to be 
of some use in it now.” 

Marion laughed incredulously. I should 
never think of associating Evadne’s name with 
disgrace,” she said. What do you mean, Isa- 
belle?” 


263 


26i 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


Mamma says this nursing fad of hers upset 
Papa completely. He said the Hildreth honor 
had better not he mentioned any more.’’ 

Well, I don’t know. It seems to me she is 
of a good deal more value to him now than the 
Hildreth honor. Dr. Pusse says she is one of 
the best nurses he ever saw. That is a high 
compliment, for he is dreadfully particular. It 
is my opinion, Isabelle, that Louis is a good deal 
worse than we think him to he. Don’t mention 
it to Mamma, for she is so nervous, hut I heard 
Dr. Kusse talking to Papa in the hall this morn- 
ing, something about an inherited tendency and 
a derangement of the nervous system. I could 
not understand — ^he spoke so low — ^hut Papa 
looked dreadfully worried after he had gone. 

Don’t you think Papa looks very badly, Isa- 
belle? And he seems so* absent, as if he had 
something on his mind. I noticed it long be- 
fore this happened.” 

Isabelle laughed carelessly. What a girl 
you are, Marion! You are always imagining 
things about people. Por my part I have too 
many worries of my o^vn.” 

Upstairs Evadne was saying wistfully, Don’t 
you think your life should be very precious, 
Louis, now that two people have died ?” 

Two people, Evadne? I know there was 
good old Pompey, — the thought of that haunts 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


2G5 


me night and day, — ^but who else do you mean ? 

“ Jesus Christ.’’ 

'' Oh ! ” 

Do you never think about him, Louis ? ” 

My dear coz, I find it wiser not to think. 
Every other man you meet holds a different 
creed, and each one thinks his is the right one. 
Why should I set myself up as knowing better 
than other people ? The only way is to have a 
sort of nebulous faith. God will not expect too 
much of us, if we do the best we can.” 

A ^ nebulous faith ’ will not save you, 
Louis,” Evadne answered sadly. “ God expects 
us to believe his word when he tells us that he 
has opened a way for us into the Holiest by the 
blood of his Son.” 

That atonement theory is an uncanny doc- 
trine.” 

It is the only way by which sinners can he 
made ^ at one ’ with an absolutely holy God. 
J esus said ^ And I if I be lifted up . . . will 
draw all men unto me.’ His humanitarianism 
did not win the hearts of the multitude. The 
very men he had fed and healed hounded him 
on to his cross.” 

It is not philosophical.” 

I read this morning that ‘ the moving en- 
ergy in the world’s history to-day is not a phil- 
osophy, hut a cross.’ ” 


266 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


The God of the present is humanitarianism/^ 

Humanitarianism is not Christ. Paul says 
— ^ Though I bestow all my goods to feed the 
poor . . . but have not love, it profiteth me 
nothing.’ The love which he means is the 
Christ power, for no mere human love could 
reach the altitude of the 13th of 1st Corin- 
thians. Keal religion is not a creed, but a 
Christ It seems to me the most important 
questions we have to answer are, what we think 
of Christ and what we are going to do with 
him. 

When Peter gave his answer — ^ Thou art the 
Christ, — the Anointed One, — the Son of the liv- 
ing God, — ’ Christ said, ^ On this rock — the 
faith of thine — I will build my church. ’ Hu- 
manitarianism, pure and simple, seems to me 
but an attempt to imitate Christ It is beauti- 
ful as far as it goes, but it is not my idea of 
following him.” 

What is, Evadne ? ” 

When J esus told his disciples to follow, he 
meant them to be with him. I do not think we 
can ever hope to be like Christ unless we believe 
him to be God and walk with him every day. If 
we have the spirit of Jesus in our hearts, we shall 
be model humanitarians, for we shall love our 
neighbor as ourselves.” 

Louis caught her hand in his. “Begin by 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


267 


loving me ! lie cried suddenly. I love you, 
dear ! These long days of watching have taught 
me that, although I began to suspect it some time 
ago. It is no use saying anything,” he went 
on hurriedly, as Evadne began to protest, “ you 
must he my wife, for I cannot live without 
you ! ” 

He drew a handsome ring, of quaint and cur- 
ious workmanship which he had bought in Ven- 
ice, from his finger, and before Evadne could 
recover from her astonishment, had thrust it 
upon hers. See, you are mine, darling. How 
let us seal the compact with a kiss.” 

Louis, you are dreaming ! This can never 
he ! ” She struggled to free her hand hut he 
held her fingers in a grasp of steel. 

It shall be, my sweet little Puritan I Do 
you suppose I will ever give you up now? I 
tell you I love you, Evadne! Love you as I 
never thought I should ever love a woman. 
Why, you can twist me around your finger. I 
am like water in your hands.” 

“ Louis, please listen 1 ” implored Evadne, 
with a white strained face. This is utterly 
impossible, for — I do not love you.” 

I will teach you, dear,” said Louis cheer- 
fully. I know I have been a brute, but I will 
show you how gentle I can be.” 

Louis ! ” cried Evadne desperately, you 


2G8 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


must let me go ! I will nevei' do this thing ! ” 
She pulled vainly at the ring as she spoke. 
Louis^ grasp never relaxed. When he spoke 
she was frightened at the recklessness of his 
tone. 

Take that ring off your finger and I go 
straight to the devil ! You say you want to win 
my soul. Here is your chance. You can make 
of me what you will. I o-^vn there is something 
in your Christianity. I canT help sneering 
when I see Isabelle and Marion playing at it, 
but I have never sneered at you. How, take 
your choice. Shall the devil have his own ? ’’ 
His voice was quiet but she could see he was 
laboring under intense excitement. Evadne was 
in despair. What should she do? Only that 
morning Dr. Russe had said to her, — - 

It is not the injury he sustained in the fall 
that worries me. He will get over that. But 
the shock to the nervous system has been tre- 
mendous. Humor him in everything and avoid 
the least excitement, as you value his life.’’ 

She leaned over him and said gently, — Dear 
Louis, you are not strong enough to talk any 
more to-day. I will wear the ring a little 
while to please you, but remember, this other 
thing you want can never be.” 

He looked up at her, his face nallid with ex- 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 269 

haustion, “ Promise me/’ he said faintly, that 
the ring shall stay on your finger until I take 
it off.” 

And Evadne promised. 


CHAPTER XXVL 


Three years had slipped away and Evadne 
still wore her cousin’s ring. A great tenderness 
was growing up in her heart toward him. She 
yearned over him as only those can understand 
who know what it is to carry the burden of 
souls upon their hearts by night and day but 
no thought of love ever crossed her mind. To 
Evadne Hildreth, love was a wonderfully sacred 
thing. The ring fretted her and she longed to 
he freed from its presence, hut Louis held her 
to her promise. If he only waited long enough, 
he persuaded himself, his patience would be re- 
warded. Some day this shy, sweet bird would 
nestle against his heart. In the meantime he 
would keep the ungenerous advantage which his 
illness had given him. He forgot that it needs 
more to tame a bird than merely putting it in a 
cage ! 

Isabelle had been intensely curious hut her 
questions had elicited no satisfaction from her 
brother, and Evadne had answered simply, 
Louis took a fancy to put it on my finger : I 
270 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


271 


am wearing it to please him, that is all : ” and 
even Isabelle found her cousin’s sweet dignity 
an effectual bar against her morbid inquisitive- 
ness. 

They had seen comparatively little of each 
other. Evadne was constantly busy, either at 
private or hospital nursing, and very short were 
the furloughs which she spent under her uncle’s 
roof. Louis had spent the first winter after his 
illness with his mother in the South of France, 
now he was in Florida, but he wrote regularly, 
and Evadne answered — when she could. Sweet, 
pleading letters which he read over and over and 
honestly tried to be better: hut it was only for 
her sake ; he knew no higher motive — ^yet. 

It was a perfect day. Down by the river an 
alligator was sunning himself, and the resinous 
breath of the pine trees swept its aromatic frag- 
rance over Louis as he lay at full length in a 
hammock with his hands behind his head. He 
had thrown the magazine he had been reading 
on the ground and it lay open at the article on 
Heredity which he had just finished. His des- 
ultory thoughts were roaming idly over the sub- 
ject, when one, more far reaching than the rest, 
made him start up with a sudden shock of un- 
welcome surprise. 

By Jove! Can it he that I am a victim of 
it too ? It looks confoundedly like it, although 


272 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


even my sweet little Puritan has not felt it a sin 
against her conscience to keep me in the dark.” 

He thrust his fingers with an impatient ges- 
ture through his hair. How I come to think 
of it, the case grows deucedly clear. The South 
of France one winter and Florida this 1 Simple 
nervous prostration would seem to the uniniti- 
ated better fought in the exhilirating ozone of 
Colorado, or — the Horth Pole — than in this lan- 
guorous atmosphere. An inherited tendency.” 
Is this the pleasant little legacy which my re- 
spected ancestor has bequeathed to his only 
grandson ? It skipped the Judge, hut it caught 
poor Uncle Lenox, and now it has nabbed me! 
What a fool I have been not to surmise what this 
confounded pain meant between my shoulders 1 
Grandfather Hildreth kept himself alive with 
nostrums until he was seventy, but he was an 
invalid all his life. He ought to he cursed for 
his contemptible selfishness in bringing so much 
suffering upon the race! There’s none of the 
taint about Evadne, bless her! Kusse told me 
the Hospital examiners said they had never 
passed such a perfect specimen of health.” 

He stopped suddenly and bit his lips in pain. 
Would he not follow his grandfather’s example 
— if he had the chance ? 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 273 

What in the world is the meaning of all 

r 

3fouis had arrived by an earlier train than he 
wa^. expected and only his mother was at home 
to greet him. The hall was in confusion, work- 
men’s tools lay about and ladders stood against 
the walls. Mrs. Hildreth laughed lightly, as 
she laid her hand within her son’s arm. 

Oh, they are only getting ready for the 
floral decorations,” she said, we give a recep- 
tion to-morrow in honor of your return. How 
well you are looking, Louis. I am so delighted 
to have you at home.” 

Thanks, lady mother. I do not need to ask 
how you have survived my absence. How is 
Evadne,^ — and the Judge and the girls ? ” 

His mother laughed again as she drew him 
on the sofa beside her. She seemed in wonder- 
fully good humor. Bather a comprehensive 
question,” she said. Sit down and we will 
have a comfortable talk before the others get 
home. Your father looks wretchedly but he 
says there is nothing the matter. I suppose it 
is just overwork and the usual money strain. 
Isabelle too is not as well as I should like her 
to be. Suffers from nervousness a great deal, 
and depression. There is a new physician here 
now, a Doctor Kandolph, who we think is going 
to help her, although he is very young; but she 


274 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


took a dislike to Doctor Eusse because be belongs 
to the old school. And now I have a surprise 
for you. Marion is engaged ! ” 

Engaged ! Why, you never hinted at it in 
your letters ! ’’ 

It has all been very sudden. I wrote you 
there was a young l^Iew Yorker very attentive 
to her.’’ 

Yes, but that is an old story. There were 
two fellows ‘ very attentive ’ vrhen I went away. 
How long since the present devotion culmin- 
ated?” 

Just a week ago to-night: and they are so 
devoted ! ” 

A second Eomeo and Juliet, eh ? ” — Louis’ 
laugh had a bitter ring, — By the way, what is 
his name ? ” 

Simpson Kennard.” 

Brother Simp ! Eich, I suppose ? ” 

Oh, yes, very. In fact he is eligible in 
every way.” 

I see,” yawned Louis. Possessed of all 
the cardinal virtues. It is a good thing his 
wealth is not all in his pockets, for they are apt 
to spring a leak. But Evadne — how is she ? ” 

Oh, she is always well, you know,” said his 
mother carelessly. There they come now.” 

These Indian famines are a terrible busi- 
ness,” said Judge Hildreth as they lingered over 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


275 


their dessert that evening. It was pleasant to 
have Louis and Evadne back again. He too was 
glad to see his son so well. I don’t see what 
the end is going to be.” 

People say that about every calamity, 
Papa,” said Isabelle, but the world goes on 
just the same.” 

Of course it does, Isabelle,” said her brother. 

You see we can’t waste time over a few dying 
millions when we have to give a reception for 
instance.” 

But that is a necessity, Louis,” said Mrs. 
Hildreth, we must pay our debts to society, 
you know.” 

I am sure I don’t see where I could econo- 
mize,” sighed Marion. That lecturer last 
night was splendid and I would like to have 
given him thousands but I hadn’t a dollar in my 
purse. I never have. I spent my last cent for 
chocolates yesterday.” 

Evadne smiled and sighed but said nothing. 
The lecturer the night before had felt his soul 
strangely stirred at the sight of her glowing face, 
and the plate when it passed her seat had borne 
a shining gold piece, but perhaps she had not as 
many temptations as Marion and Isabelle. 

I would have willingly filled you up a check 
with the cost of the floral decorations, Marion,” 
said her father with a' twinkle in his eye. 


276 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


They would have purchased a good many bags 
of corn.” 

But that is ridiculous ! ” said Isabelle. 
What would a reception be without flowers, I 
should like to know ? As it is, I expect it will 
be a poor affair compared to the Van Huys’ last 
week. We never seem to be able to do anything 
in proper style. You would better put your new 
Worth gown on the collection plate, Marion, 
and appear in a morning dress to-morrow night. 
Louis would be the flrst one to be scandalized if 
you did ! ” 

Well but, Isabelle, I had to have something 
new. I have worn my other dresses so many 
times, I am perfectly ashamed.” 

Of course, sis,” said Louis gravely, it was 
a most imperative expenditure. It is a strange 
coincidence that you should have chosen that par- 
ticular make though. It has always been a'' 
fancy of mine that the Levite was robed in a 
Worth gown when he passed by on the other 
side.” 

The sufferings must be awful,” said 
Evadne, anxious to relieve Marion’s embarrass- 
ment. I saw in the paper to-day that ” 

Mrs. Hildreth lifted her hands in mock alarm. 
Pray spare us any recital of horrors, Evadne ! 
I never want to hear about any of these dreadful 
things. What is the use, when one cannot help 
in any way ? ” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


277 


“ You forget, Mamma,” said Isabelle with a 
laugh, that Evadne revels in horrors. What 
would be torture to our quivering nerves, to her 
atrophied sensibilities is merely an occurrence 
of every day.” 

Louis gave a sudden start in his chair, but on 
the instant Evadne laid her hand upon his arm, 
and its light touch soothed his anger as it had 
been wont to soothe his pain. 

Evadne Hildreth was climbing the heights of 
victory. She had learned to cover her wounds 
with a smile. 


CHAPTEE XXVIL 


Who is that calf, Evadne, standing by the 
piano Louis put the question to his cousin the 
next evening, as he sought a few moments’ re- 
spite from his duties as host at her side. 

That is Mr. Simpson Eennard.” 

Louis surveyed the fashionably dressed, weak- 
faced, sandy-haired young man from head to 
foot He will never get above his collar ! ” he 
said in a tone of infinite scorn. 

Evadne laughed. You must confess it is 
high enough to limit the aspirations of an ordi- 
nary mortal.” 

Marion fiuttered up to them, her cheeks aglow 
with excitement. Louis, where are you ? I 
want to introduce you to Simpsey. He has just 
arrived.” 

Evadne looked after her as she led her brother 
away. Poor little soul. What a butterfly it 
is! Fancy having a husband whom one could 
call Simpsey ! ” 

She started. Her knight of the gate was 
standing before her with outstretched hand. A 
278 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


279 


great light was in his face. Do yon remem- 
ber ? ’’ he asked, and Evadne’s eyes glowed deep 
with pleasure, as she laid her hand in his. They 
would never be properly introduced, these two, 
‘ Life is a beautiful possibility,^ ” she said, 

I am proving it so every day, — but, oh, the 
awful suffering in the world! I cannot under- 
stand, — ” 

And John Randolph answered with his strong, 
sweet faith. God understands, we do not need 
to.” 

They were standing in an alcove partially 
screened by a tall palm from the crowd which 
surged up and down through the rooms. He 
took from his pocket a morocco case, and, open- 
ing it, held it towards her. Wliat made the color 
flush her cheeks while her eyes fell beneath his 
gaze ? She only saw a little square of lawn and 
lace, but the name traced across one comer was 
^ Evadne ’ I 

“Did you leave nothing behind you at Holly- 
wood that day ? ” he asked gently. 

“ My handkerchief 1 ” she cried. “ I missed 
it before we reached Marlborough. I must have 
left it at the gate.” But Evadne had left more 
behind her than she knew. 

“I will keep it still,” he said, “ with your 
permission. Will you give it to me ? ” 

“ Oh, Doctor Randolph ! ” Isabelle’s voice fell 


280 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


shrill upon Evadne’s silence, they are calling 
for you in the other rooni^ to decide a knotty 
question — something about microbes. I told 
them I was sure you would know. Will you 
come ? ” 

John Eandolph put fhe case quickly in his 
pocket and smiled as he turned away. He 
thought he had read consent in her lovely eyes. 

After the reception was over Eva due knelt by 
her window until the stars faded one by one from 
the sky. Then she turned away with a happy 
sigh. When he came to get his answer, she 
would know. 

Give that to me ! ” Isabelle spoke imper- 
iously to the servant, who was passing through 
the hall with a note in her hand. From where 
she stood she had recognized the clear handwrit- 
ing of the prescriptions which the new doctor 
wrote. Her demon of curiosity overcame her. 
The tempter was very near. 

The girl held the note towards her. It is 
for Miss Evadne,” she said. Miss E. Hil- 
dreth, you see. ’ ’ 

Isabelle gave a careless laugh. Did you 
not know I had an E in my name also ? Evelyn 
Isabelle. I know the writing. The note is 
meant for me.” 

So the truth and the lie mingled ! 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 281 

When John Eandolph called that evening he 
was ushered into the presence of Isabelle. 

I am so sorry about Evadne ! ” she ex- 
claimed, before he had time to speak. She 
had an engagement with my brother. He mo- 
nopolizes her whenever he is at home.” She 
laughed affectedly. Oh, I cannot tell you 
when it is coming off, hut she has worn his ring 
for years. They will not give us any satisfac- 
tion — deep as the sea, you know. It seems so 
strange to me, but then I am so transparent. 
She is a clever girl, hut very peculiar. Does 
not seem to have much natural feeling, you 
know, but I suppose I am not fitted to judge, I 
am so emotional ! ” 

John Randolph bit his lip hard. It startled 
him to find how sharp a pain could be. 

Day after day Evadne waited but her knight 
never asked for his answer. She began to meet 
him professionally, for his reputation was stead- 
ily increasing, but he made no attempt to resume 
the conversation which had been so rudely in- 
terrupted. He treated her with a delicate chiv- 
alry always — that was John Randolph’s way — 
and once she had caught such a strange, wistful 
expression on his face as he looked at her and 
then at a patient’s arm which she was deftly 
bandaging. She was puzzled. What could it 
all mean ? Well, God understood. 


282 ^ BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 

The surgical ward in tlie new Hospital at 
Marlborough was filled to its utmost capacity 
and Evadne found her work no sinecure. The 
force of nurses was inadequate to the demand. 
Often she would be called from her rest to min- 
ister to the critical cases which were her special 
care, and she would go down to the ward saying 
softly, The Master is come and calleth for 
thee,’’ and bending tenderly over the sufferers, 
would behold as in a vision the face of Christ 
My dear Miss Hildreth ! ” the superinten- 
dent exclaimed one day, how is it that you 
make the patients love you so ? ” 

Evadne laughed merrily. If they do,” she 
said, it must be because of my love for them.” 
And the Superintendent answered in a hushed 
voice, Why, that is the Gospel 1 ” 

They called her ^ Sister,’ these rough men. 
She liked it so. She felt herself a sister to the 
world. 

It was evening and the lights were turned 
low in the surgical ward. Evadne was making 
her round before going to her room for a sorely 
needed rest. John Kandolph, who had come to 
pay a second visit to an interesting case in one 
of the medical wards, stood in the shadow of the 
doorway and watched her hungrily. Each one 
wanted to say something and Evadne listened 
patiently. To her the mission of a nurse meant 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


283 


something higher than gruel and bandages. 
She never forgot as she ministered to the body 
that she was dealing with a soul. 

John Randolph, standing with folded arms 
in the doorway, heard her low, sweet laugh, as 
she strove to brighten up a lachrymose patient; 
and caught at intervals the name of Jesus, as 
she reminded one and another of the Friend 
whose sympathy is strong enough to hear all the 
weight of human pain, and once he thought he 
heard the sweet note of a prayer. He started 
forward. Evadne was bending over a man who 
had been badly crippled in a saw mill. His 
left arm was gone and all the fingers from his 
right hand. With the morbidness of those who 
delight in concentrating attention upon their 
own sufferings, he had pulled off the loosened 
bandage with his teeth and held up the stump 
for inspection, and Evadne had laid her cool, 
soft hands on either side of the unsightly mass 
of red and angry fiesh and was holding them 
there while she talked ! 

She gives herself!” cried John Randolph 
with a great throb of longing. It is what 
Jesus did, in Galilee.” 

A wave of passion broke over him. It was 
not true, this story. It could not be! How 
could her nature, sweet as light, ever be attuned 
to that of her cynical cousin ? She was coming 


284 : 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


nearer, nearer. He would stay and meet her. 
He thought he had read his answer in her eyes. 
How he would have it from her lips as well. 

But then, there was the ring! Isabelle had 
been right. It was no lady’s ornament, and he 
had seen the initials L.H. graven in the heart 
of the stone as their hands had met one day in 
dressing a wound. Evadne Hildreth was not 
one to wear a man’s ring lightly and John Ran- 
dolph bent his head and groaned. 

Sister, Sister, won’t you sing before you 
go ? ” 

Oh, yes. Sister, give us just one song! ” 

The men raised themselves on their elbows in 
pleading entreaty, and Evadne stood in all her 
sweet unconsciousness before him and began to 
do their will. Soft and clear the music fell 
about him. The air was ‘ The last Rose of 
Summer ’ but the words were ‘ Jesus, Lover of 
my soul.’ When the song was ended, John 
Randolph, hushed and comforted, walked noise- 
lessly down the stairway and out into the quiet 
street. 

Evadne had sung her message, while she 
folded its leaves of healing down over her own 
sore heart, and human love had paled before the 
exquisite beauty of the love of God ! 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


" J OHN Randolph 1” 

“ Rege ! ’’ 

The two men stood facing each other with 
hands held in a vice-like grasp, all unconscious 
of what was going on around them in the street. 
“ Where did you come from ? ’’ 

Where have you been ? ” 

John laughed. In and around Marlbor- 
ough all the time, except when I went to Xew 
York for my degree.’^ 

And never let us hear a word from you all 
these years ! 

You forget, Rege, your father forbade me 
to hold any communication with Hollywood.” 

Reginald’s face grew grave. “ Poor father. 
Well he’s done with it all now.” 

You don’t mean that he is dead, Rege ? ” 

Yes — and little Xan.” 

Oh ! ” The exclamation was sharp with 
pain. 

I think she fretted for you, John. She 
just seemed to pine away. Every day we 
285 


286 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


missed her about the same time, and they al- 
ways found her in the same place, down by the 
green road. Then scarlet fever came. She 
never spoke of getting well — didn’t seem to 
want to. The night she died she put her arms 
around mother’s neck and whispered. ‘ Tell 
Don me’ll be waitin’ at the gate.’ That was 
all.” 

John wrung Eeginald’s hand and turned 
away. Reginald looked after him with misty 
eyes. I used to tell mother it would break 
his heart. I never saw any one so wrapped up 
in a child ! ” 

And your father, Eege ? ” John was calm 
again. 

Had a fit of apoplexy soon after. I think 
Han was the only thing in the world he cared 
for. It had never struck him that she could 
die. We sold Hollywood and went abroad. 
Mother’s health broke down — she was never 
very strong, you know. We spent one year in 
Italy and one in France, but the shock had been 
too great. She lies in a lovely spot beside the 
sea.” 

Hot your mother too, Rege ! ” 

Reginald’s voice broke. Yes, they are all 
gone. It was a great deal to happen in a few 
years. I am a wealthy man, John, but I am 
all alone in the world, except for Elise. Well,” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


287 


he added more lightly, I have learned not to 
rebel at the inevitable. It is only what we 
have to expect.’^ 

‘‘ Elise ! ” echoed J ohn wonderingly, after 
the first shock of grief was over. 

“ My wife,’’ said Reginald proudly. “ You 
must come home at once and let me show you 
the sweetest woman in the world.” 

Hot just yet, Rege^ I must pay a visit to 
Mrs. O’Flannigan, then there is the hospital, 
and the dispensary, and I promised to concoct 
a bed for a poor fellow in the last stages of 
heart trouble. But I will come to-night.” 

Always helping somewhere, J ohn. What 
a grand fellow you are ! ” 

We are in the world to help the world, else 
what were the use of living ? ” 

I can’t do anything,” said Reginald, with 
this clog.” He looked contemptuously at his 
ebony crutch as he spoke. 

John laid his hand upon his arm. Rege,” 
he said in his old, tender way. I think this 
very ^ clog ’ as you call it, is a preparation to 
help those who are passing through the baptism 
of pain.” 

Mrs. Reginald Hawthorne welcomed her hus- 
band’s friend with a winning charm. She was 
very pretty, very graceful and very young. 


288 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


Reginald idolized her. John saw that as he 
looked around the sumptuous home whose ^^ry 
fitting was a J^ibute to her ^taste. They Rad 
just finished '^unpaeking the Tubings they had 
brought from Europe. 

Strangely enough/’ said Reginald with a 
laugh, I told Elise this morning that now I 
was going to start out in search of you ! ” 

He had developed wonderfully. John saw 
that too. Travel and trial had brought out the 
good that was in him — ^but not the best. 

The evening passed pleasantly. Mrs. Haw- 
thorne played beautifully, and Reginald had 
kept ears and eyes open and talked well. 

How about the other life, Rege ? ” asked 
John when they- had a few moments alone. 
This one seems very fair.” 

All a humbug, John. You Christians are 
chasing a will o’ the wisp, a jack o’ lantern. 
You remember my fad for mathematics? I 
have followed it up, and I find your theory a 
‘ reductio ad absurdum.’ I must have every- 
thing demonstrable and clear. This is neither.” 

Yet it was a great mathematician who said, 

^ Omit eternity in your estimate of area and 
your solution is wrong.’ ” 

Reginald shook his head. I have nothing 
to do with this faith business. I go as far as I 
see, no further.” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


289 


God calls our wisdom foolishness, Kege. 
Jesus Christ put a tremendous premium upon 
the faith of a little child/’ 

Things must be tangible for me to believe 
in them. Reason is king with me.” 

Without faith in your fellow man — and 
your wife — you would have a poor time of it, 
Rege; why should you refuse to have faith in 
your God ? Is your will tangible, and can you 
demonstrate the mysterious forces of nature? 
You know you can’t, Rege, you have to take 
them on trust ; and if you had seen what I have, 
you would know that poor human reason is a 
pitiful thing! But I won’t argue with you. 
Some day you will understand.” 

Reginald Hawthorne went back into the room 
where his wife was sitting. “ Elise, darling, 
you have seen one of the grandest men in the 
world to-night. The only trouble is that on 
one subject he is a crank.” 

Oh, Reginald, do you mean it ! I thought 
he was splendid. And what a wonderful face 
he has 1 ” 

Reginald started. Hah ! Am I to be jeal- 
ous of my old friend ? But I might have 
known,” he added sadly, no one could care 
long for such a wreck as 1 1 ” 

The girl wife put her arms around his neck 
and kissed him softly. “You foolish boy!” 


290 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


she whispered, ^^you know I shall never love 
any one but you ! 

And Eeginald Hawthorne counted himself a 
perfectly happy man. 


CHAPTEE XXIX. 


Judge Hildreth sat in his library, alone. He 
had left home immediately after dinner, osten- 
sibly to catch the evening train for Xew York, 
and had sent the carriage back from the station 
to take his family to the Choral Festival which 
was the event of the year in Marlborough, and 
then returning in a hired conveyance, had let 
himself into his house like a thief. When we 
sacrifice principle upon the altar of expediency, 
truth and honor, like twin victims, stand hound 
at its foot. He wanted to be undisturbed, to 
have time to think, and God granted his wish, 
until his reeling brain prayed for oblivion ! 

Xo sound broke the stillness. With the ex- 
ception of the servants in a distant part of the 
house, he was absolutely alone. 

He drew out his will from a secret drawer of 
his desk and looked it over with a ghastly 
smile. To my dear niece, Evadne, the sum 
of thirty thousand dollars, held by me in trust 
from her father.” Then came a long list of 
charities. It read well. People could not 
291 


292 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


say he had left all to his family and forgotten 
the Lord. If his executors should find a diffi- 
culty in realizing one quarter of the values so 
speciously set forth, they could only say that 
dividends had shrunk and investments proved 
unreliable. It was not his fault. He had 
meant well. Besides, he had no thought of dy- 
ing for years. There was plenty of time for 
skillful financing. Other men had done the 
same and prospered. Why should not he? 

But the letters must be destroyed. He had 
come to a decision at last. It was an impera- 
tive necessity. His hesitancy had been only 
the foolish scruples of an over sensitive con- 
science. The tremendous pressure of the age 
made things permissible. He was torn by the 
tooth of circumstance ” and necessity knows 
no law.” So he entrenched himself behind a 
breastwork of sophisms. Long familiarity with 
the suggestions of evil had bred a contempt for 
the good ! 

He stretched out his hand towards the drawer. 
There should be no more weak delay. If a 
thing were to be done, Twere well it were done 
quickly. 

The horror of a great fear fell upon him. 
Again his hand had fallen, and this time he was 
powerless to lift it up ! 

The hours passed and he sat helpless, bound 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 293 

in that awful chain of frozen horror. In vain 
he struggled in a wild rage for freedom. ISTo 
muscle stirred. Where was his boasted will 
power now? Hand and foot, faithful, uncom- 
plaining slaves lor so many years, had rebelled 
at last! 

His brain seemed on fire and the flashing 
thoughts blinded him with their glare. The 
letters rose from their sepulchre and, clothed in 
the majesty of a dead man’s faith, looked at him 
with an awful reproach, until his very soul 
bowed in the dust with shame. His will still 
lay upon the desk, open at the paragraph to 
my dear niece, Evadne,*’ and the words in 
trust,” like red hot irons, branded him a felon 
in the sight of God and men ! 

He remembered having once read a quotation 
from a great writer, — When God says, ^ You 
must not lie and you do lie, it is not possible 
for Deity to sweep his law aside and say — ^ Ho 
matter.’ ” Did God make no allowances for 
the nineteenth century? 

The others returned from the Festival, and 
Louis passed the door whistling. He had 
had ’a rare evening of pleasure with Evadne. 
Towards its close, under cover of the rolling har- 
monies, he had leaned over and whispered I 
love you, dear ! ” and Evadne had held out her 
hand to him with the low pleading cry, Oh, 


294 ^ BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 

Louis, if you really do, then set me free ! ” but 
he had only smiled and taken the hand, on 
which his ring was gleaming, into his, and set- 
tled his arm more securely upon the back of her 
chair; and John Kandolph, sitting opposite 
with Dick and Miss Diana, had watched the lit- 
tle scene and drawn his own conclusions with a 
sigh. 

The night drew on. The electric lights 
which it was Judge Hildreth’s fancy to have 
ablaze in every room downstairs until the cen- 
tral current was shut off, still gleamed steadily 
upon the rigid figure before the desk, with the 
white, drawn face and the awful look of horror 
in its staring eyes. In an agony he tried to 
call, but no sound escaped the lips, set in a 
sphinx-like silence. 

He must shake off this strange lethargy. It 
was not possible for him to die — he had not 
time. To-morrow was the meeting of the Pan- 
hattan directors — they were relying upon him 
to work through the second call on stock — and 
two of his notes fell due, if he did not retire 
them his credit would be lost at the bank; and 
there was the banquet to the English capitalists, 
with whom he was negotiating a mining deal; 
and he must arrange with his broker to float 
some more shares of the Silverwing ” — and 
manipulate, manipulate, manipulate — 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


295 


'^An agonized, voiceless cry went up to heaven. 
Oh, God, let me have to-morrow ! ” 

In the morning a servant found him, when she 
came to clean the room, and fled screaming 
from the presence of the silent flgure with the 
awful entreaty in its staring eyes. 

Louis hurried downstairs to learn the cause of 
the commotion, followed by Mrs. Hildreth, 
swept for once off her pedestal of stately calm. 

Shivering with horror the family gathered in 
the beautiful room which had been so suddenly 
turned into a death chamber, the servants weep- 
ing boisterously, Isabelle and her mother in vio- 
lent hysterics, and Marion clinging with wide, 
frightened eyes to Louis, who found himself 
thrust into a man’s place of responsibility and 
did not know what to do I 

He sent one servant to the Hospital for 
Evadne — instinctively he turned in his thought 
to her, — another for the Doctor ; while with one 
arm around Marion, he tried to sooth his 
mother and Isabelle. 

And in the midst of all the wild commotion 
his father sat, unmoved and silent, his agonized 
face lifted in an attitude of supplication, his 
lifeless hands lying heavily upon the now 
worthless papers, since for him there would be 
no to-morrow I 


296 . ^ BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY^ 

The stately obsequies were ended. The paid 
quartette had sung their sweetest, while Doctor 
Jerome, standing beside the frozen face in the 
massive coflSn, had delivered an eloquent eulo- 
gium, and Mrs. Hildreth, clad in her costly 
robes of mourning, had been led to her carriage 
by her son. Everything had been conducted in 
a manner befitting the Hildreth honor. 

Evadne ! ” Louis turned a white, scared 
face towards his cousin, who stood beside him 
as he sat at his father’s desk. Upstairs Mrs. 
Hildreth and Isabelle were in solemn consulta- 
tion with a dressmaker. In the drawing-room 
Marion was being consoled by Simpson Ken- 
nard. 

Well, Louis ? ” She laid her hand on his 
shoulder gently. She was very sorry for him. 

“ There is some awful mistake. Poor Father 
seems to have counted on funds which we can 
find no trace of. The estate is not worth an 
eighth of what he valued it at. There is barely 
enough to keep you, mother and Isabelle, alive ! ” 
He laid his head down on the desk while great 
tears fell through his fingers. The shameful 
mystery of it was intolerable. 

But, Louis, have you looked everywhere ? 
There must be some explanation — ” 

Louis shook his head. Everywhere, but in 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


297 


this drawer. I opened it but there is nothing 
but musty old letters. I haven’t time to go into 
them now. Oh, little coz, I don’t dare to look 
you in the face. All the money that was 
left you by your father is gone ! ” 

Don’t tell Aunt Kate and the girls, Louis. 
There is no need that they should ever know. 
I have my profession and I am strong. TJncle 
Lawrence never meant to do anything except 
what was right, I know.” 

Louis looked up at her and there was a 
strange reverence in his cynical face. He was 
in the presence of a Christliness which he had 
never dreamed of. I am not worthy to touch 
the hem of your garment,” he said humbly. 
Hut he did not offer to release her from her 
promise. He had not learned to be generous 
—yet. 


Evadne’s dream was ended and rude was the 
awaking. The idea of helping her fellows had 
grown to be a passion with her and very fair 
had been the castle in the air of which she was 
the Princess. A home, not rich or stately but 
full of a delightful homeiness which should 
soothe and cheer those who, walking through the 
world amid a storm of tears, call earth a wil- 
derness, while their desolate hearts echo the 
mournful question, — Is there any sorrow like 


298 ^ BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 

unto my sorrow/’ She, too, had been lonely, 
— she could understand, and by the sweet in- 
fluence of human love and sympathy lift their 
thought above the earthly shadows up to the 
love of God. 

She had not dreamed of doing things on a 
grand scale. Evadne Hildreth was wise 
enough to know that comfort cannot he dealt 
out in wholesale packages, — she never forgot 
that Jesus of Hazareth helped the people one by 
one. 

She had never questioned the terms of her 
father’s will — if there was a will. She had 
supposed when she became of age there would 
be some change, but her uncle had made no ref- 
erence to the subject and she had not liked to 
ask. He was always kind — he would do what 
was best. Some day she would be free to 
carry out this beautiful dream of hers. She 
could afford to wait. How there was nothing 
to wait for any more ! 

How strange it seemed, when the need was 
so great and she longed to help much! Well, 
she was only a little child, — she could trust her 
Father. God understood. 

That was what he had said, this strong, true 
friend of hers, that night he asked the question 
which he had never asked again. How gentle 
he was 1 — ^but it was the gentleness of strength 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


299 


— and how every one depended on him! She, 
herself, had learned to expect the helpful words 
which he always gave her when they met. 
Friendship was a beautiful thing! 


CHAPTEE XXX. 


JoHiT Eandolph came up behind Evadne one 
morning as she was dressing the burns of a little 
lad who had been severely injured at a fire. 
She did not hear his step — she was telling a 
bright story to the little sufferer, to make him 
forget his pain, and the boy was laughing 
loudly. His face was very grave, but his eyes 
lightened as they always did when they rested 
upon her face. 

Mrs. Eeginald Hawthorne is very ill. Can 
you, will you come ? ’’ 

And Evadne answered with a simple Yes.’’ 
They needed so few words, these two. 

I tell you I will not die ! ” The piercing 
cry rang through the handsome room and fell 
like molten lead upon the heart of the man who 
with strained, haggard face was sitting by the 
bedside. You have not told me the truth, 
Eeginald! There is a God. I feel it! You 
have always laughed and called me young and 
foolish, but I know better than you do, now. 
300 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


301 


You said if our lives were governed by reason, 
we would meet death like a philosopher, and I 
do not know how to die! You used to laugh 
and say the whole thing was child’s play and 
there was nothing to fear, and I believed you, 
— I thought you were so wise, but it was easy 
to believe you then with your arms folded close 
about me and the sunlight streaming through 
the windows and the shouts of the children out- 
side, but now you cannot go with me and I am 
afraid to go alone.” The eyes, wild and des- 
pairing, burned fiercely in the pallid cheeks. 

Do you hear, Reginald ? I am afraid, I 
tell you; horribly afraid! You used to say 
you would lay down your life to save me. 
Why do you not help me now ? 

What makes you look so strangely, if it is 
all nonsense, Reginald? why do you shut out 
all the sunshine and why is the house so still? 
You told me once you were going to die with a 
laugh on your lips. I am dying, Reginald, 
why don’t you help your wife to die as you 
mean to do ? A h ! ” 

Her voice died away in a low wail of terror 
and the delicate blue veins in her temples 
throbbed with feverish excitement. Reginald 
Hawthorne had crouched dovm in his chair 
and buried his face in his hands. The pitiful 
cry began again. 


302 


A BJ^AUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


To die, when life is so sweet! To he shut 
up in a cof^ and buried in a cold, dark grave ! 
You don’t love me, Eeginald. If you did, you 
would die too — with a laugh on your lips you 
know — then I should have that to cheer me, 
and we should be together, and I should not be 
afraid. But now you look so strangely, Kegi- 
nald. Don’t you care for me any more ? Can 
you let them take me away from this beautiful 
world and stay in it all by yourself ? 

I suppose you will give me a splendid 
funeral — ^you are so generous you know — but I 
will not care whether the prison is pine or ma- 
hogany if I am to be shut up in it all alone ! 
And you will have a long procession, with 
plumes and flowers and show, but you will leave 
me in the dreary cemetery and you will come 
back to our home, where we have been so happy 
together — so happy, just you and I — but you 
see you are a philosopher and I do not know 
how to die 1 

And some day you will forget me — men do 
such things they say — and another woman will 
be your wife and I will be all alone 1 ” 

‘^Sister!” The abject man in the chair 
held out his hands in an agony of entreaty, 
Come here and help us — if you can ! ” and 
Evadne came swiftly into the room, and, sitting 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 303 

down on the side of the bed, gathered the piti- 
ful little figure to her heart. 

‘‘ It is not death but life,” she said gently. 

This body is not you. The home of the soul 
is more beautiful than any earthly home can 
ever be. It is those who are left behind, dear, 
who mourn, not those who go.” 

Elise Hawthorne laid her head on Evadne’s 
shoulder like a tired child. But I am 
afraid,” she whispered. ‘‘ If this is true, and 
God is holy, I am not fit, you know.” 

‘^Your Father loves you dear, for he sent 
his Son to die. The thief on the cross was a 
sinner, yet Christ took him to Paradise. The 
fitness must come from Jesus. His blood washes 
whiter than snow.” 

^‘But I have done nothing to earn it. I 
have lived for myself alone.” 

We never can earn a gift, dear. God gives 
in a royal way. He says to you only ‘ Believe 
I have given you life through my Son.’ ” 
Evadne had taken the tiny Bible which she al- 
ways carried from her pocket and was turn- 
ing its pages rapidly. “ Here it is. Will you 
raise the blind, Mr. Hawthorne, that your wife 
may see for herself ? ^ God so loved the world 
that he gave his only begotten Son,’ — the best 
he had! — ^that whosoever believeth in him 
should not perish,’ you see there is no death 


304 : 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


for those who trust in him. And then ^ He 
that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life.’ 
It does not mean that we may have it after 
years of toil. The Israelites, stung by the ser- 
pents, had no time to reason or plan to live 
better, for they were dying, but they could 
turn their eyes to the brazen serpent which God 
had ordered to be lifted up in the midst of the 
camp for an antidote to the poison. So Christ 
has been ‘ lifted up ’ upon the cross for us. Ho 
died instead of you. Why should you die for- 
ever when he has paid your ransom and set you 
free ? ” 

But I cannot touch him, — I cannot be sure 
it is true.” 

The Israelites could not touch the brazen 
serpent. They simply looked, and lived. 
There is just one condition for us to-day and it 
is ‘ Believe.’ Cannot you take your Heavenly 
Father at his word as you would your husband? 
Cannot you treat God the same ? ” 

Mrs. Hawthorne looked wonderingly at her 
nurse. Treat him the same as I do my hus- 
band ! ” she exclaimed. Why, with Beginald, 
I believe every word he says.” 

And I with God,” said Evadne reverently. 

What charm have you wrought ? ” asked 
John Bandolph in a whisper, as they stood to- 
gether that evening beside a quiet sleeper. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


305 


This is the first natural sleep she has had. I 
believe it will prove her salvation.’^ 

Evadne looked up at him, and over her face 
a light was breaking, I have led her to Jesus, 
the Mighty to save.” 

The Hawthornes were going to Europe. The 
young wife’s convalescence had been tedious 
and it was a very frail little figure which clung 
to Evadne the evening before they started. 
They had pleaded with her to go with them. 

Give up this toilsome work which is overtax- 
ing your strength,” Reginald had said, as they 
sat together one evening in the twilight, and 
make your home with us. You have grown to 
be our sister in the truest sense of the word and 
we have learned to lean upon you, Elise and I. 
We can never hope to repay you,” he continued 
huskily, “but it would be such a pleasure to 
have you with us for good.” 

Evadne looked at the pleading eyes with 
which Elise Hawthorne seconded her husband’s 
wish and her lips trembled. “ How rich God 
is making me in friends ! ” she said. “ I shall 
never forget that this thing has been in your 
hearts, but I must be about my Father’s busi- 
ness.” 

And then John Randolph had come to make 
one of his pleasant, informal visits and they had 


306 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


sat together in a beautiful fellowship, talking of 
the things pertaining to the Kingdom. 

Doctor Randolph,’’ Elise asked suddenly, 
what is your conception of prayer ? Evadne 
says it means to her communion and companion- 
ship with J esus. She says it is ‘ the practice of 
the presence of God.’ ” 

John Randolph’s face grew luminous. To 
me it means a great stillness,” he said. Did 
you ever think of the silences of God ? ^ Be 

still, and know that I am God,’ ^ Stand still, 
and see his salvation.’ ” 

But are we not to ask for what we want ? ” 
asked Mrs. Hawthorne wonderingly. 

Oh, yes, but we learn to ask so little for our- 
selves when we love our Father’s will. The 
trouble is, we want to do the talking. God 
would have us listen while he speaks.” 

Then what does it mean to worship God ? ” 
she asked. We cannot always be in church.” 

John Randolph smiled. ‘^We do not need 
to be. If our hearts are all on fire with the love 
of God, we worship him continually.” 

When he rose to go he turned towards Evadne. 
How goes life with you now, dear friend ? ” 
The grey eyes, full of a clear shining, were 
lifted to his, I am absolutely satisfied with 
Jesus Christ.” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 307 

Marion was married and living in ISTew York. 
Louis had taken a small house, where he lived 
with his mother and Isabelle. He spent his 
days in the monotonous routine of a bank, and 
to his pleasure-loving nature the drudgery 
seemed intolerable, hut he said little. Evadne 
never complained ! 

One day he went to see her at the Hospital 
and she was frightened at the pallor of his face. 
She led him to the superintendent’s reception 
room — there they would he undisturbed. He 
staggered blindly as he entered the room and 
then sank heavily on a sofa near the door. He 
looked like an old man. 

Louis ! ” she cried in alarm, what is the 
matter ? ” 

He took a letter from his pocket and held it 
toward her. It bore her own name, and the 
writing was her father’s ! 

Can you ever forgive ? ” Then he buried 
his face in his arms and groaned aloud. The 
awful disgrace and shame of it seemed more 
than he could bear. 

Interminable seemed the hours after Louis 
had left her, walking slowly, with that strange, 
grey shadow upon his face, and stooping as if 
some unseen burden were crushing him to the 
earth. She dared not let herself think. She 


308 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


must wait until she was alone. At last she was 
free to go to her room. 

Down on her knees she read the passionate 
farewell words, which made her heart thrill, so 
full of tender advice and loving thought for her 
comfort. Through streaming tears she looked 
at the closely written pages of instructions, so 
minute that she could not err — and he had dis- 
liked writing so much I This was the weary task 
which had tried him so! And all these years 
she had never known. She had been robbed of 
her birthright 1 

Fierce and long the battle raged. When it 
was ended God heard his child cry softly, “ For- 
give us our trespasses as we forgive those who 
trespass against us.” 

She had forgiven! 


CHAPTEE XXXL 


Mes. Simpson Kennard was sitting in her 
pretty morning room with her baby on her knee. 
She looked across the room at her sister who was 
paying her a visit. I wish you had a little 
child to love, Isabelle. It makes life so differ- 
ent. I am just wrapped up in Elorimel.” 

Eor pity’s sake, Marion,” cried Isabelle 
peevishly, “ don’t you grow to be one of those 
tiresome women who think the whole world is 
interested in a baby’s tooth! I certainly do 
not echo your wish. I think children are a 
nuisance.” 

Marion caught up her baby in dismay. 

Why, Isabelle, just think how much they do 
for us ! They broaden our sympathies — I read 

that only the other day, and ” 

Broaden your fiddlesticks ! ” said Isabelle 
contemptuously. Easy for you to talk when 
you have everything you want ! If you had to 
live in that poky little house in Marlborough, I 
guess you would not find anything very broad- 
ening about them! 


309 


310 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


It is perfectly preposterous to think of our 
being reduced to such a style of living 1 she 
continued, as Mrs. Kennard strove to soothe her 
baby’s injured feelings with kisses. Just 
fancy, only one servant! I never thought a 
Hildreth would fall so low.” 

But you and Mamma are comfortable, Isa- 
belle. It is not as if you were forced to do any- 
thing.” 

Do anything 1 ” echoed Isabelle. Are you 
going crazy ? ” 

Well, see how hard Evadne has to work ? 
and she is a Hildreth as well as you.” 

Evadne 1 ” said Isabelle sarcastically, with 
her nerves of steel and spine of adamant! 
Evadne will never kill herself with work. She 
is too much taken up with her wealthy private 
patients. You should have seen her driving 
round with the Hawthornes in their elegant car- 
riage ! And I reduced to dependence upon the 
electric cars! I don’t see how she manages to 
worm her way into people’s confidence as she 
seems to do. I couldn’t, but then I have such 
a horror of being forward.” 

^ All doors are open to those who smile.’ 
I believe that is the reason, Isabelle.” 

Stuff and nonsense ! ” was Miss Hildreth’s 
inelegant reply. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 311 

She is a dear girl, Isabelle. Why will you 
persist in disliking her so ? 

“ Oh, pray spare me any panegyrics ! ’’ said 
Isabelle carelessly. It is had enough to have 
Louis blazing up like a volcano if one has the 
temerity to mention her ladyship’s name.” 

How is Louis ? ” asked Mrs. Kennard, find- 
ing she was treading on dangerous ground. 

Oh, the same as usual. He looks like a 
ghost, and is about as cheerful as a cemetery. 
He spends his holidays going over musty old 
letters in papa’s desk. I ’m sure I don’t see 
what fun he finds in it. It is so selfish in him, 
when he might be giving mamma and me some 
pleasure — ^but Louis never did think of anyone 
but himself. One day I found him stretched 
across the desk and it gave me such a fright! 
You know what a state my nerves are in. I 
thought he was in a fit or something, — ^he just 
looked like death, and he didn’t seem to hear me 
when I called. He had a large envelope ad- 
dressed to papa in his hand and there was an- 
other under his arm that didn’t look as if it had 
ever been opened, but I couldn’t see the address. 
I ran for mamma, but before we got back he 
was gone and the letters with him. Whatever 
it was, it has had an awful effect upon him, 
though he won’t give us any satisfaction, you 
know how provoking he is. It is my belief he 


312 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


is going into decline, and I have such a horror 
of contagious diseases! 

If Evadne is so anxious to work, why 
doesn’t she come and help mamma and me ? It 
is the least she could do after all we have done 
for her, but as mamma says, ^ It is just a speci- 
men of the ingratitude there is in the world.’ ” 

The months rolled by and Evadne sat one 
afternoon in the superintendent’s reception room 
reading a letter which the postman had just de- 
livered. It bore the Vernon postmark. 

She had seen but little of Mrs. Everidge 
through the years which followed her gradua- 
tion. She had been constantly busy and her 
aunt’s hands had been full, for her husband’s 
health had failed utterly and he demanded con- 
tinual care. How her long, beautiful ministry 
was over, for Horace Everidge, serenely selfish 
to the last, had fallen into the slumber which 
knows no earthly waking, and Aunt Marthe was 
free. 

“ I do not know what it means,” she wrote, 

but something tells me I shall not be long in 
Vernon. I am just waiting to see what work 
the King has for me to do.” 

Evadne pressed the letter to her lips. Dear 
Aunt Marthe! If the majority had had your 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 313 

‘ tribulum ’ they would think they had earned 
the right to play ! ” 

She looked up. John Eandolph was stand- 
ing before her with a package in his hands. 

I have been commissioned by the Haw- 
thornes to give this into your own possession/’ 
he said with a smile. 

She opened it wonderingly. Bonds and cer- 
tificates of stock bearing her name. What did 
it mean? John Eandolph had drawn a chair 
opposite her and was watching her face closely. 

You cannot think what long consultations 
we have held on the subject of what you would 
like/’ he said, ^'you seemed to have no wishes 
of your own. At last a happy thought struck 
Eeginald, and he sent me a power of attorney 
to make the transfer of these bonds and stocks 
to you. It is a Trust Fund to be used to help 
souls. We all thought that would please you 
best of all. You are a rich woman, Miss Hil- 
dreth.” 

A great wave of joy swept over her bewil- 
dered face. So God has sent me the fulfil- 
ment of my dream ! ” she said softly. And 
John Eandolph understood. 

That evening she wrote to Mrs. Everidge. 

“Dear Aunt Marthe, — The King’s work is 
waiting for you in Marlborough. The work 
that we used to long for — the joy of lifting the 


314 A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 

shadows from the hearts of the heavy laden — - 
God has given to yon and me ! ” 

Why should yon not come to ^ The Wil- 
lows ’ ? ” 

John Kandolph pnt the question one after- 
noon, as they were enjoying Miss Diana’s hos- 
pitality in the fragrant porch. Evadne had 
just finished a merry recital of their woes. 

We have looked at houses until we are fairly 
distracted, Aunt Marthe and I. One had a cel- 
lar kitchen, and I am not going to have my good 
Dyce buried in a cellar kitchen ; and one had no 
bathroom, and another was all stairs ; and they 
are all nothing but brick and mortar with a scrap 
of sky between. I want trees and water and 
fields. The poor souls have enough of masonry 
in their daily lives.” 

I believe it is decreed that you should come 
here,” he continued, after the first exclamations 
of surprise were over. It is just the work our 
lady delights in, and she cannot be left alone. 
Dick goes to College next month and I must live 
in town. The house is beautiful for situation, 
and a threefold cord of love and faith cannot 
easily be broken.” 

He looked round upon them, this man who 
found his joy in helping others, and waited for 
their answer. 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


315 


It would be beautiful, beautiful ! ” cried 
Evadne, if Miss Chillingworth were willing. 
But the house is not large enough, Doctor Ran- 
dolph, we shall need three or four guest cham- 
bers, you know.’’ 

Nothing easier than to build an addition,” 
said J ohn, with the quiet reserve of power which 
always made his patients believe in the impos- 
sible. 

Evadne laid her hand upon Miss Chilling- 
worth’s — Dear Miss Diana,” she said gently, 
you do not say ‘ No ’ to us ; do you think you 
could ever find it in your heart to say ‘ Yes ’ ? 
I know it must seem a terrible innovation, but 
we could never have imagined anything half so 
delightful. Aunt Marthe and I. The atmos- 
phere — outdoors and in — is perfection ! ” 

Miss Diana looked at the sparkling face and 
then at Mrs. Everidge with her gentle smile. 

I find myself very glad,” she said, since I 
have to lose my boys, but do you think we had 
better make any definite plans, dear, until we 
have talked it over with the Lord ? ” 

And John Randolph said to Evadne with eyes 
that were suspiciously bright ; It is impossible 
for anyone to get very far from the Kingdom 
when they live with our Lady Di.” 

The talk had wandered then to different sub- 
jects, and John Randolph listened to the soft 


316 A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 

play of Evadne^s fancy and watched the light in 
her wonderful eyes. Her nature, so long re- 
pressed in an uncongenial environment, in this 
new soil of love and sympathy was blossoming 
richly and he found her very fair. He had 
rarely seen her resting. How the shapely hands 
were folded together in a beautiful stillness — 
and then the breeze had waved aside a flower, 
and a sunbeam, darting through the trellis, fell 
upon the stone in her ring and made it sparkle 
with a baleful fire ! 

Poor Louis ! ” Isabelle had said, the last 
time he had been called to prescribe for her fre- 
quently recurring attacks of indisposition, he 
will have to wait for promotion now before he 
can think of marriage. It is very hard for 
him.’^ 

So again the truth and the lie had mingled. 


CHAPTER XXXIL 


Very sweet grew the life at ^ The Willows ’ 
and Mrs. Everidge and Evadne and Miss Diana 
found their hands full of happy work. 

Unavella still reigned supreme in her kitehen. 

’Tain’t a great sight harder to cook for a dozen 
than six/’ she had remarked sententiously, 
when the plan was unfolded to her, it’s only 
a matter uv quantity, the quality’s jest the same. 
Ef Miss Di-an’s a’goin ter start in ter he a sho 
Atlas an’ carry the world on her shoulders, she’ll 
find I’m warranted ter wash an’ not shrink in 
the rinsin’. I’m not a’goin ter be left behind, 
without I hev changed my name.” 

Dyce kept the rooms in spotless order and 
waited upon the guests. 

“ Dear friend,” said Evadne one morning, as 
she watched her putting loving touches to the 
dining table, you take as much trouble as if 
you expected Jesus Christ to be here! ” 

So I does. Miss ’Vadney,” she answered sim- 
ply, I never feels comfortable ’cept when 
dere’s a place fer de Lord,” and Evadne an- 
317 


318 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


swered, Dear Dyce, you make me feel 
ashamed 1 ” 

Many and varied were the guests who partook 
of their hospitality. The famine which no ma- 
terial wealth can alleviate is not confined to the 
dwellings of the poor. Hearts starve beneath 
coverings of velvet and loneliness often rides in 
a carriage. Many were the patients whom tha 
world counted well to do ’’ that J ohn Kan- 
dolph sent to Evadne to be comforted. There 
was nothing to make them suspect that the keen 
intuition of the young physician had read their 
secret. ^ The Willows ’ was simply a charming 
retreat where he sent them to try his favorite 
tonics of sunlight and oxygen ; they never 
dreamed they were to be the recipients of favors 
which would not be rendered in the bill. 

It was a beautiful fellowship in which they 
were banded together, for the Hawthornes had 
returned and were learning to find their pleas- 
ure in doing their Father’s will. Dick True 
was in the brotherhood also, and never came 
home for his vacations without bringing with 
him some fellow who needed a taste of love,” 
and the overgrown boys would glory in their 
strength as they lifted Miss Diana from the car- 
riage after a delightful drive, and learn a 
strange gentleness as they were unconsciously 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 319 

trained in the little deeds of chivalry which be- 
speak a true man. 

Soon after Evadne’s dream had materialized 
John Randolph had sent her a dainty little 
equipage to help on the work. 

You are too kind ! ” she cried, as she 
thanked him, too generous ! ’’ 

Can we be that ? ’’ he asked, when we are 
giving to a King ? It is a theory of mine that 
a drive in the country with the right companion 
is better than exordiums. These poor souls 
have never learned to see ^ sermons in stones, 
books in the running brooks, and God in every- 
thing.’ You must give me the pleasure of a 
little share in your beautiful work, my friend.” 

“ A little share I ” echoed Evadne. Is it 
possible that you do not know. Doctor Randolph, 
how much of it belongs to you ! ” 

The beauty of the life was that the guests 
were taken into the heart of the living and felt 
themselves a part of the home. They never 
preached, these wise, tender women, but the 
beautiful incidental teachings sank deep into 
hearts that would have been closed fast against 
sermons. There was no stereotyped effort to do 
them good, they simply lived as Christ did, and 
the world-tired souls looked on and marvded, 
and rejoiced in the sunlight of the present and 


320 ^ BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 

the afterglow which made the memory of their 
visit a delight. 

^ Do not leave the sky out of your land- 
scape/ said Aunt Marthe in her cheery way, 
as Mrs. Dolours was wailing over her troubles. 
That was all — for the time, — Mrs. Everidge be- 
lieved in homeopathy — ^but it set her hearer 
thinking, and thought found expression in ques- 
tioning, until she was led to the feet of the 
great Teacher and learned to roll her burden of 
trouble upon him who came to bear the burdens 
of the world. 

‘ We are not to be anxious about living but 
about living well,^ ’’ said Miss Diana to a young 
man who prided himself upon being a philoso- 
pher ; “ that is a maxim of Plato’s but we can 
only carry it out by the help of the Lord, my 
boy.” And he listened to Evadne’s merry 
laugh as she pelted Hans with cherries while 
Gretchen dreamed of the Fatherland under the 
trees by the brook, and wondered whether after 
all the men who had made it their aim to stifle 
every natural inclination, had learned the true 
secret of living as well as these happy souls who 
laid their cares down at the feet of their Father, 
and gave their lives into Christ’s keeping day 
by day. 

‘^You just seem to live in the present,” 
wealthy Mrs. Greyson said with a sigh, as she 


A BEAVTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


321 


folded her jeweled fingers over her rich brocade, 

I don’t see how you do it ! Life is one long 
presentiment with me. I am filled with such 
horrible forebodings. I tell Doctor Randolph 
it is a sort of moral nightmare.” 

“ Some of your griefs you have cured, 

And the sharpest you still have survived, 

But what torments of pain you endured, 

From evils that never arrived I ” 

Evadne quoted the words from a book of old 
Erench poems she had found in the library. 
Then she asked gently, Why should you worry 
about the future, dear Mrs. Greyson, when it is 
such a waste of time? Don’t you believe our 
Father loves his children? ” 

A waste of time.” That was a new way of 
looking at it ! Mrs. Greyson had always prided 
herself upon being thrifty, and, if God loved, 
would he let any real harm happen ? She knew 
she would shield her children. How blind she 
had been ! 

Ah, but you have never known sorrow ! ” 
and Mrs. Morner drew her sable draperies 
around her with a sigh. “ Just look at your 
face! Hot a shadow upon it and hardly a 
wrinkle. You are one of the favored ones with 
whom life has been all sunshine.” 

Mrs. Everidge laughed brightly. She had 
21 


322 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


never pined to pose as a martyr before tbe 
world. 

God has been wondrous kind to me,” she 
said, but there is a cure for all sorrow, dear 
friend, in his love. The great Physician is the 
only one who has a medicament for that disease. 
It is not forgetfulness, you know — ^he does not 
deal in narcotics — ^but he lays his pierced hand 
upon our bleeding hearts and stills their pain. 
Our memory is as fresh as ever, but it is memory 
with the sting taken out.” 

Ah, but you cannot understand — ^how should 
you? You have always had everything you 
wanted, and you have never lost anything or 
longed for what has been denied you 1 ” and a 
toilworn woman, whose life seemed one long bat- 
tle with disappointment, looked enviously at 
Miss Diana, over whose peaceful face life’s twi- 
light was falling in tender colors. 

ISTot quite everything I wanted, dear,” said 
Miss Diana softly, but I have come to know 
that God himself is sufficient for all our needs.” 

Our dear Miss Diana has learned that ‘ we 
must sit in the sunshine if we would reflect the 
rainbow,’ ” said Aunt Marthe in her low tones. 

It is a good rule, ^ for every look we take at 
self, to take ten looks at Jesus.’ She lives in 
the light of his smile.” 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


323 


Then through the open window they heard 
Evadne singing, 

“Oh, the little birds sang east, and the little birds sang 
west, 

And I smiled to think 'God’s greatness flowed around 
our incompleteness, 

Round our restlessness, his rest.” 

And the weary soul folded its tired wings, all 
wounded with vain heatings against the prison 
bars of circumstance, and was hushed into a 
great stillness against the heart of its Father. 

John Randolph sought Evadne in the famil- 
iar porch which had grown to be to him the 
sweetest spot on earth. 

You are always busy,” he said with a smile, 
as he lifted the garment she was making for the 
little waif who was to have her first taste of 
heaven at ‘ The Willows.’ Satan has no chance 
to find an occupation for you.” 

But, oh. Doctor Randolph, what a drop in 
the bucket all our doing seems, when we think 
of the need of the world ! ” 

Yet without the drops the bucket would be 
empty, dear friend. God never expects the im- 
possible from us, you know. I think Christ’s 
highest commendation will always be, ‘ She hath 


324 : 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


done what she could/ It is when we neglect 
the doing that he is wounded/’ 

After a pause he spoke again. “ With your 
permission I am going to send yon a new pa- 
tient.” There was no trace of the struggle 
through which he had passed. This brave soul 
had learned to do the right and leave the rest 
with God. 

Evadne laughed. “ Still they come ! Is it 
man, woman or child, Doctor Randolph ? ” 

Your cousin Louis.” His voice was very 

stilL 

“ Poor Louis ! Is it more serious then ? 
He has been looking wretchedly for months.” 

John Randolph examined her face critically. 
Could she call him poor Louis ” if she loved ? 

His present trouble is nervous strain, ag- 
gravated by the unaccustomed confinement, and 
some mental excitement under which he is labor- 
ing. He must have a long rest, with a complete 
change of environment. If anyone can lift the 
cloud which seems to be hanging over him, I 
think it is you.” 

Evadne shook her head sadly. “ The only 
one who can help Louis is Jesus Christ,” she 
said. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


Louis Hildreth lay upon a couch in the cool 
library the morning after his arrival at ^ The 
Willows.’ Evadne had been shocked at the 
change in him since she had seen him last. His 
eyes were sunken, while underneath purple 
shadows fell upon his pallid cheeks. Ho 
touched Evadne’s hand as she sat beside him. 
It was his hand I 

What a splendid fellow Randolph is ! ” he 
exclaimed suddenly. He is making himself 
felt in Marlborough, I tell you. Strange, how 
some men forge their way to the front, while the 
rest of us just float down the stream of medioc- 
rity. Ho wonder we are not missed, when we 
drop out of the babbling conglomerate of hu- 
manity into silence,” he added bitterly. Who 
would miss a single pair of fins from amidst a 
shoal of herring! ” 

I think it is because Doctor Randolph is not 
content to float, Louis,” Evadne answered 
gently. He must always be climbing higher. 
Like Paul, he is ^ pressing towards the mark.’ ” 
325 


326 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 


He is a grand fellow ! And the beauty of 
it is lie never seems to think of himself at all. 
Most men would get to be top-lofty if they ac- 
complished as much as he does every day.” 

. Evadne’s lips parted in a happy smile. “ I 
think Doctor Eandolph is too much occupied 
with Jesus to have time to waste upon himself.” 

Upon my word, coz, you’re a puzzle! You 
talk in an unknown tongue. Don’t you know 
Self is the god we worship, and the aim of our 
existence is to have it wear purple and fine 
linen, and fare sumptuously every day ? ” 

It should not be 1 ” cried Evadne. Oh 
Louis, dear Louis, life can never be grand until 
we are able to say — ^ Self has been crucified 
with Christ!”’ 

Weeks rolled into months and Louis was still 
at ^ The Willows.’ His cynicism had come to 
have a strangely wistful ring. John Ran- 
dolph’s visits were frequent and they held long 
conversations together, these men, the one who 
had seized every opportunity and made the most 
of it, the other who had let his golden chances 
slip through his fingers one by one; then John 
Randolph would go bravely back to his life of 
toil, while Louis listened to Evadne’s sweet 
voice as she sang in the gloaming, or watched 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 327 

his ring glisten as her deft fingers were busy 
with their deeds of love. 

How do you do it ? ” he exclaimed one even- 
ing when they were alone together. “You 
never rest! Your whole life seems to he cen- 
tered in the lives of others, and there is nothing 
attractive about them, if there were I could un- 
derstand. It looks like such drudgery to me. 
Tell me, little coz, what makes you give up all 
your ease to make these people happy ? ” 

“ When we love our Father it is our joy to 
do his will,” she answered softly. 

“ If I could live like you and Kandolph I 
should be perfectly satisfied. I wish I had the 
courage to try.” 

“ Mere outward living cannot save us, Louis. 
FTothing can but faith in the atoning blood 
and the name and the love of Christ. Then — 
when we believe, you know — all things become 
possible. We make an awful mistake when we 
think we know better than the Bible. Hico- 
demus lived a perfect outward life, yet Christ 
said to him, ‘ Except ye be born again — of the 
Word and the Spirit — ^ye cannot see the King- 
dom of God.’ We are running a terrible risk 
when we try to live without Jesus.” 

“ That is what Kandolph says. He is a one 
idea man, if ever there was one, and yet he is 
so many sided! He is the most uncompromis- 


328 ^ BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 

ing fellow I ever knew. I should as soon ex- 
pect to see the stars fall from the sky as to see 
him do a shady thing. You would be amused, 
coz, to see the lady mother and Isabelle join- 
ing forces to lay siege to his affections.’’ 

What meant that sudden start and then the 
blush which flamed up over cheek and brow? 
Louis Hildreth closed his thin Angers over 
Evadne’s ring with a long drawn sigh. He 
was beginning to realize that a hand, without a 
heart, is an empty thing. 

Long after she had left him he lay motion- 
less. This knowledge which had come to him 
so suddenly had a bitter taste. 

“ You ought to get well, Hildreth, and you 
ought to be a very happy man,” John Ran- 
dolph spoke the words suddenly as he rose to 
take his leave. 

“ I never expect to be either. When a man 
has all he has prided himself upon swept away 
from him, and all that he longs for denied 
him, how can it be possible ? ” 

“ ' Count it your highest good when God 
denies you.’ Is that too hard a gospel? We 
shall not read it so in the light of eternity. It 
is only that Christ may become to us the ^ alto- 
gether lovely ’ One.” 

“ Did you ever love — a woman ? ” Louis 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY. 829 

put the question suddenly, watching his friend’s 
face with a jealous scrutiny. 

Yes.” The answer was as simple and 
straightforward as the man. He knew of noth- 
ing to be ashamed of in this beautiful love of his 
life. 

And her name was ? — ” 

Evadne.” 

John Eandolph spoke the name for the first 
time to another, looking up at the sky. When 
he turned to leave the room he saw that Louis’ 
face was buried among his cushions and he 
drove away in a great wonderment. What 
could it all mean? 

“Knocking, knocking, who is there? 

Waiting, waiting, oh, how fair I 
’T is a pilgrim, strange and kingly, 

Never such was seen before. 

Ah, my soul, for such a wonder, 

Wilt thou not undo the door ? ” 

Evadne sang the words softly in the twilight : 
sang them with a great note of longing in her 
pleading voice. She and her cousin were alone. 

Evadne, come here.” 

She crossed the room and knelt beside his 
couch. 

Little coz, I have let the Pilgrim in.” 

And Evadne buried her face in the cushions 


830 


A BEAUTIFUL POSSIBILITY, 


with a low cry. The crown of rejoicing was 
hers — at last! 

“ There is only one thing wanting between 
you two.” Louis looked wistfully at John 
Randolph and Evadne, as they stood beside 
him, talking brightly of how he should help 
when he grew strong. 

And what is that ? ” Doctor Randolph asked 
the question with a smile. 

Louis drew his ring from Evadne’s finger and 
laid her hand in that of his friend. Take her, 
Randolph, she is worthy of you. I would not 
say that of any other woman.” 

With a great joy surging in his heart, John 
Randolph held out his other hand. She must 
give herself. He could not take her from an- 
other’s giving. 

A lovely shyness flushed into the pure face, 
their eyes met, and Evadne laid her hand in 
his without a word. 

Evadne 1 ” The rich, tender tones fell 
throbbing through the silence, enwrapping the 
name in a sweet protectiveness. Life is — for 
us — ^to do the will of God 1 ” 


THE END. 





I 


AUG 31 I9U4 






UBRARV OF CONGRESS 






um'ili 


00 Q 127 fi 5 B 03 






1 ^ 4 f i j ri? &»b 

■ f ^*b*■ 


555:* J h ;* : f; 


ii', 1 * ij t :f;. 




Hinfiiiifij 

tjj 




ICMf. 


mm i 




:mtt 


SlU’l'.’iUTJLl^iT 


:V*vaUy 


Ui uti it I'li Yitt i 


»f*S 












.till f1 



iriU- fli'i'::']: 

', 'iii 

. 1 L pti-^ ' i 


i'^rir il; 4-Ui^i 






m\iU 


Rl' ''* 

SR 

fpl 

HIMH 

tE«* 



‘ ’ ’ f ¥ i 

! • ' 1 

•til?' 

lvt<« 

K\ii'd 









f&rL 








mV 

[Ijw 

^6 



l»Hf 


Hif 


inu 



1 

ill 

ga 




4 UII 1 £j 


life 




At : 


:r 

* 

i»i 










■■■'• ';-lv 


■. J 

i;i=u-v 


























